


Vitae

by bilboswaggins, mitslits



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Adrenaline-fueled Sex, Altered canon, Anal Sex, Angst, Animal Death, Arranged Marriage AU, Awkwardness, Barebacking, Brief dirty talk, DIY Surgery, Dean being a dick, Doggy Style, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Emotional Trauma, First Dance, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Miscarriage, Mpreg universe, Nipple Play, Rimming, Shower Frottage, Smoking, Smut, Unexpected Pregnancy, Wet Dream, bed sharing, choking (again not the fun kind), christmas seasonal depression, eggsy and harry join the mile high club, harry lies a lot, innuendos (not the fun kind), mentions of tentacle porn (but no actual tentacle porn), mentions of torture, more smut, next morning guilt and awkwardness, slightly degrading dirty talk, things are EXPLAINED, weird mix of canon and non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-01-04 02:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 291,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilboswaggins/pseuds/bilboswaggins, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitslits/pseuds/mitslits
Summary: Harry Hart needs a promotion. How is he supposed to get it in a world where being single and childless is frowned upon? Find a husband, of course.This is written RP style, so there will be shifting points of view.





	1. An Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> tags will be updated every chapter. please heed these warnings as there will be some heavy topics discussed later on in the fic
> 
> right now the tags are just general, but there will be more specifics as each chapter is added
> 
> also we started this back in 2015 so i promise our writing skills have improved since then. editing can only take you so far lol

Mutual benefit was a term Harry Hart was coming to detest. In his experience, it only cropped up in situations where no one stood to benefit. It had shown up in his very first relationship, when his ex-wife had declared that their separation would be “mutually beneficial” as they couldn't actually have children together. It had showed up in the boardroom when he was supposed to be getting a promotion, only to be told that it would be “mutually beneficial” for both him and the company's image if he found a spouse with whom he could produce the children that were expected of him. And now here it was with the audacity to show up once more, flaunting itself in the form of Dean Baker, Harry's self-proclaimed savior.

If Harry wanted the promotion (which he did), and he wanted children (which he didn't), then he could have Gary (how fascinating).

Gary turned out to be the man's stepson, a rebel without a cause, if Dean was to be believed. The situation wasn't ideal, especially considering how little say Gary appeared to have in the matter. But if Harry wanted to excel, it was the level he was going to have to stoop to. Sometimes, one had to go down before they could go up.

So it was that Harry found himself sitting in the Black Prince, engaged to a man he'd never met, with no idea what to expect when said man showed up to their little meeting. If he showed up at all.

Eggsy was taking his sweet time getting there.

It was obvious from the moment Dean gave Eggsy the option -- though it was really more of a demand -- that Eggsy was going to be difficult about it every step of the way. The row that had ensued when Dean had first broken the news to Eggsy that he was now engaged to a man he had never heard of let alone met was one of the biggest between them.

“I ain’t fucking doing it!” Eggsy had stood with his chest puffed, ignoring his mother, who was trying to calm him down. “I don’t want nothing to do with some fucking business drone.”

“This ain’t up to you. I don’t want you on my fucking hands no more, you hear?” Face red, veins throbbing in his head and neck, Dean stood barely a foot away from Eggsy. His hands were curled into fists, and he too ignored Michelle’s pleadings. “No money, no job, you’re no good to me on the street... This is the best use we can get out of you, you understand me, boy? If you want what’s best for your mother, you’ll do as I say.”

Eggsy had deflated and stormed out after that.

It had taken some time for Michelle to calm him down when he’d returned, sitting with him on his bed and rubbing his back lovingly as she assured him it would all be okay.

“You won’t have to do too much, babes,” she promised, letting Eggsy sit there with his head in his hands. “It’ll be for appearances mostly. You’ll both be married in public, and eventually…. Well, you’ll start a family.”

“I’m only in this for him to have me pump out a fucking kid?” Eggsy spat, angry and almost hysterical. “Just for him to say he has them? And I’ve got to deal with _that?_ ”

“... It’s going to be alright, love,” Michelle had sighed, shushing him quietly. “It’s not ideal. But it’s better than where you’re headed now.”

Eggsy couldn’t argue with that. Being married -- even if it was a sham marriage just to bolster his future husband’s appearance -- meant a place to be, and his mystery husband had to be doing well for himself, so there probably wasn’t going to be a shortage of food. In his opinion, not having to scrape by day to day while avoiding beatings every other week -- and hopefully saving his mother and sister from that fate as well -- was worth being sentenced to marriage and children. So while Eggsy wasn’t exactly punctual, he did walk through the doors of the Black Prince to meet his new fiancé properly.

Eggsy had decided to be as honest and upfront as possible with his fiancé about who he was. Who knows, maybe he’d say no after all once he realized how not ... whatever kind of person he was, Eggsy was. He strode in, dressed in his black and gold jacket with matching polo, jeans, favourite winged trainers and white snapback, the best “him” clothes he had. Hands in his pockets, he stood at the door for a few seconds, looking around to see where the mystery man was.

It wasn’t terribly hard to pick out the man in a suit; he stuck out like a sore thumb in a place like the Prince. Taking a breath and reminding himself not to literally drag his feet, Eggsy made his way over.

Harry was absently swirling the last of his brandy when he sensed someone approaching. A quick glance up assured him that his fiancé had decided not to skip out on him after all. Briefly, Harry wondered what he would have done if he'd been rejected without them ever even coming face to face. Probably wouldn't have lost sleep over it, anyways. Tipping back the glass, he let the last of his drink slide down his throat, taking the opportunity to run a quick, critical eye over the man.

Gary was young, but that was only to be expected. The young were the most fit for bearing children and besides, most people Harry's age were already squared off with someone, settled in for the long haul.

When Harry had been younger he'd always looked on older spouses with a sort of contempt, wondering what, exactly, was wrong with them that they couldn't have found someone their own age. How irony loved situations like this.

Besides that, Gary was rather handsome, in a worn sort of way. It was obvious that they weren't exactly from the same class, but Harry had expected that too. Richer people tended to marry their sons off with much less desperation than Dean had displayed, assured of their success in finding a match. It was somewhat perplexing, Harry thought, why Gary hadn't found someone already. Perhaps he, like Harry, just wasn't interested in the prospect of marriage.

No matter. Here they both were, and they would just have to deal with it now. Harry stood to greet him, extending a hand politely. "Gary Unwin, I presume," he said smoothly.

As far as first impressions went, Eggsy was unimpressed. He wasn’t disappointed of course; his fiancé was quite good looking and as well dressed as he had expected, but that only served to make Eggsy suspicious. Why, if he was successful and attractive, wasn’t he already married, even for show like this was going to be? What was wrong with him? Eggsy began to dread finding out that there was something off about him. What if he collected an absurd amount of cookie jars, or spoke in the third person or something?

Eggsy debated briefly ignoring his hand and just sitting down, but as annoyed as he was, he wasn’t about to set the tone for their entire future, however long or short it may be, on an act of pettiness. He grasped it firmly but barely shook, instead looking up at him (damn, he was taller than he looked sitting there) scrutinizingly from narrowed and squinted eyes.

“... Eggsy,” he corrected as he let go and sidled into the seat opposite him. “No one calls me Gary. That makes you Harry, yeah?” Though it was a question, it sounded more like a statement, given as he slumped against the wooden back of the booth.

As Gary -- no, _Eggsy_ \-- limply shook Harry's hand, the voice of Harry’s father drifted into the back of his mind, as it always did at the most inopportune times. ' _A strong man must have a strong handshake_ ' as he'd liked to say, but Harry shoved the thought away. He'd never won or lost an opportunity because of a weak handshake, and he wasn't about to judge Eggsy based on such a trifling thing. The clothes, however, might warrant further observation. More specifically, the shoes. They were an affront to Harry's fashion sense, and he closed his lips on several less-than-complimentary comments as he reclaimed his seat.

Straight-backed as always, Harry nodded. "Yes, I would be Harry Hart."

An awkward silence fell, and Harry suddenly realized he had no idea what the proper behavior in this sort of situation was. How, exactly, was one supposed to talk to an unwillfully engaged fiancé?

"Would you like anything to drink?" he settled on, figuring that was a safe topic.

Eggsy jumped on the offer, because nothing sounded better to help with an awkward, inescapable meeting than alcohol. “Yeah. Pint sounds good, don’t really matter what. I‘m here enough, whatever barman’s back there should know me.” He shrugged, fighting the urge to fold his arms. Every bit of him wanted to be difficult, but every time he thought about it, he thought of his mum and thought better of it. Straightening a bit, enough to lean out of the booth, Eggsy his hand and waved to get the attention of the bearded barman. With a small, jerky nod of acknowledgement and a smirk, he received a nod in return as well as a pointed look, which Eggsy shrugged off before returning his attention to Harry.

Harry's eyes tracked the silent exchange between Eggsy and the barman, one eyebrow twitching up slightly at the look the barman shot him. Best not to comment on it, he thought, seeing as this was the type of place Eggsy usually hung out. He was risking more of his reputation than Harry was, that was certain, but if this was where he felt comfortable, well... Harry could blend in. As much as one could while wearing a bespoke suit in the middle of a downtrodden pub, at least. Harry was nothing if not versatile

Eggsy took a breath before raising his eyebrows and leaning forward, arms resting in his lap. “So can I ask you some shit, then? Seeing as all I know is that your name’s Harry, you work _somewhere_ , and apparently we’re engaged.” He snorted. “Like, how the fuck did you let Dean get a hold of you?”

"I work for a rather large corporation that specializes in both stocks and real estate. Quite a lucrative field of business, as you might imagine, and very nearly the only one of its kind, so we get a lot of business," Harry explained, tracing one finger around the rim of his empty glass.

Eggsy stared at Harry blankly as he described his business. That sounded unimaginably boring. Stocks, real estate, those were still just generic phrases tossed around in movies to make people sound important, as far as Eggsy was concerned. And from what little he _did_ know about them, he couldn’t fathom why someone would want to work there for any length of time without shooting themselves. But Eggsy heard “lucrative”, and that was really all he needed to know. Harry was in the business of making money and business was a-booming. Good enough.

Eggsy looked less than impressed with his job description, and it nettled Harry a little. You sink your life into something and expect at least a little interest from the person you're going to marry. But he didn't say anything, even when Eggsy perked up at the mention of money; Harry couldn't really blame him for looking only at what he'd get out of him. After all, Harry was doing essentially the same thing.

"The story of how I met your stepfather isn't terribly interesting I'm afraid,” Harry continued. “We ran into each other one night as I was walking back from a meeting. I... assisted him with something, and your name came up in the resulting conversation." Harry shifted slightly.

Eggsy wrinkled his nose at the rather vague description of Harry’s involvement with Dean. It sounded shady. “I can’t think of anything you would want to talk with Dean about. But it don’t surprise me that he threw my name out soon as he saw an opening,” he said somewhat bitterly, biting the inside of his lip.

"Dean was attempting to express his gratitude. That came in the form of him offering me his stepson once he'd heard I was having a little trouble going any further in my company due to my status," Harry explained. "But what about you, Eggsy? Do you have a job?"

That sounded about right to Eggsy. ‘Thank you, whoever you are, please take my stepson away.’ Mhm. Bang on. At the question, Eggsy sank back into his seat with a small huffing sound. The appearance of his drink allowed him to pour himself into something before answering. Only after he took a good drink did he respond, shifting his eyes away in a display somewhere between defensiveness and stubbornness. “No, not the way you’d think of one. Not for lack of trying. Ain’t too many people around here looking to hire someone like me.”

Harry furrowed his brow at Eggsy's hesitation. "And what, exactly, does that mean?" Harry pressed, leaning forwards. He wasn't necessarily upset about the lack of employment; Dean probably wouldn't have been quite as eager to get rid of Eggsy if he'd been an asset. Besides, his own means were more than sufficient to support the two of them.

But Eggsy just shook his head. “Nah, it‘s nothing. I don’t do it anymore either way.”

It wasn't an answer, but Harry had his own secrets to keep, and he didn't begrudge Eggsy his. Or... well, perhaps he begrudged them a little, but not enough to keep hounding Eggsy about it. He did still want them to have a decent relationship, after all. They might not have to see too much of each other once they were actually married, but it would be more pleasant to at least be able to tolerate his husband and be tolerated in return.

For someone who was intently set on not caring about this stranger’s approval, Eggsy was starting to feel rather frustrated for not getting it, nor having any foreseeable way of proving some sort of arbitrary value he didn’t even _want_ to feel obligated to demonstrate. Over-thinking it wasn’t helping either.

Maybe rambling would help him chill the fuck out.

“Only been home a year or so.” Eggsy set his drink down again, hands falling into his lap as he looked at Harry. His head lolled back to hit the back of the booth. “Been hard to look for something when I need to be home a lot. Before this I was in the Royal Marines. Joined them straight out of school. I‘m 24, bruv, if Dean ain’t told you.”

Harry was almost surprised when Eggsy started speaking again, voluntarily talking about himself. Interest piqued, Harry slowly shook his head. "He didn't." A sharp lance of guilt stabbed him. 24 was younger than he'd thought, and Harry glanced away, clearing his throat. "I would assume he didn't tell you how old I am either," he commented dryly.

Eggsy almost laughed. “He barely told me you’d be here today. You can pretty much assume I know fuck all about you. If I were to take a guess, I‘d say 46, 47. Not that the exact number really matters, but I guess it’s one of those things I’ll need to know at some point, eh.”

Harry sighed. Starting from scratch, then, it seemed. "Well, you're not _completely_  off. I'm 52," he informed him, the urge to get another drink briefly sweeping over him. Instead of giving in, Harry just tightened his fingers around his empty glass. "And I suppose 'fuck all' leaves us with quite a bit of ground to cover."

Fifty-two. Well. It wasn’t ideal, as people kept telling Eggsy, but it could be worse. Harry looked pretty darn good for 52 -- Eggsy supposed the lack of marriage and children would do that -- and that had been a large concern of his when he had been told he’d be marrying someone “old enough to be your dad there, Muggsy.”

Shrugging, Eggsy once again adjusted his position in his seat, restless as he was, leaning forward to look at Harry with a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. “‘Think we got awhile to cover all that ground, bruv. So why don’t you give me the summary to start off with, yeah? I got ‘Harry Hart,’ the stock and real estate businessman who’s 52, single, and-” Eggsy leaned further forward towards Harry’s empty glass and sniffed. “Apparently likes… I‘m gonna say _brandy_ to drink while he waits for his new person at a dingy pub probably beneath his social status by a lot. About right so far?”

At least Eggsy didn't seem enormously put off by the prominent age gap between the two of them. Harry wasn't either, really, but then he _was_ getting the better end of the deal. At least in that particular regard. “About right so far,” he confirmed with a nod. "And I've found that of all the places class doesn't have an effect on quality, pubs are the best examples. This one, for instance, has an excellent brandy," Harry said.

Eggsy took a sip of his drink, mentally flicking through the other assumptions and conclusions he’d made, but he was courteous enough not to voice them. Those could be changed, these were facts. “Go on then, tell me about Harry the person, who you are and what you do outside work and all.” Sip.

"Harry, the man outside of work…” Harry sighed. “I'm afraid I hardly know him myself. Most of my time is spent either in the office or working on files at home. You'll be free to do mostly as you please with much of your time."

Eggsy waved his hand impatiently, looking at Harry with incredulity. "I don't care about that right now. If I'm not gonna see you, I want to know who it is I'm not seeing. Nothing? You work and sleep and that's it? No way. C'mon, give me something, anything." He raised his eyebrows, expectant.

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "When I have some free time, I usually just read. Occasionally I practice some of my other skills, but they’re not terribly interesting, I’m afraid. Really only useful to my work. But what of you, Eggsy? If you don't have a job, surely you’ve had the opportunity to try some interesting things," he said.

Eggsy let out a puff of breath, resigning himself to the fact that that was as much as he was going to get out of Harry for the time being. And maybe that's all there was. How boring. "I'm busy during a lot of the day. Besides that, follow football, play PS3, go out with mates, that sort of thing. Much as _I_ find my skills at Most Wanted 'interesting', I somehow doubt _you_ would." He paused a moment, then with a grin, added, "And real cars when I can get them."

Perhaps Harry shouldn't have been surprised by a possible criminal record, but it was still unsettling to know that he could be marrying a carjacker. "Not to place restrictions on you so early in our relationship, but I would prefer that sort of behavior stay restricted to the virtual world," he stated wryly. Finally giving in to the need for more alcohol, Harry signaled to the barman for another glass of brandy.

Eggsy chuckled. "I ain't gonna jack a car. I just like driving fast when a mate lets me use his wheels." He probably should have been a bit more miffed at the assumption that he was a criminal, but he really wasn't.

"Ah," Harry said, burying his embarrassment in his new drink. What had he been thinking, making an accusation like that? It had been a poor move on his part, and he opened his mouth to make an apology. "I have a car," was all that came out instead.

"Yeah?" Part of Eggsy wanted to be snarky, to say he would assume as much if Harry wanted to get anywhere without a cab, but a bigger part wanted to know more. Besides, he had a big thing for cars. Once again he leaned forward, grinning a real and full grin for the first time since sitting down, clearly interested. "What kind?"

Harry was temporarily too distracted by the sight of Eggsy's smile -- genuine, he thought -- to actually answer the question. Covering up his hesitation by taking another sip of brandy, he grimaced. "A Lamborghini Aventador. Terribly overpriced and a frankly appalling gas mileage, but it _looks_ nice, which is really the only qualification for a luxury car."

Whistling low in appreciation, Eggsy raised his eyebrows in disbelief as he shook his head. "Fuck, mate. Scissor doors and all? I would get serious cred just for getting a picture with one of them. Sick fucking car." He chuckled to himself as he looked away for a moment. He had been about to ask “can you show me sometime?” or something of the sort, but before he did, he realized how stupid that was. Of course he would see it some time. Maybe even drive it. What he wouldn't give to get behind _that_ wheel... "You're living a chav's dream with that one," he chuckled.

Harry shrugged, allowing himself to relax slightly at Eggsy's appreciation. He hadn't wanted to seem like he was the sort of person who put a lot of stock into the type of car he drove, but apparently that wouldn't be an issue. "I'm sure I'm living a chav's dream in more ways than just that," he pointed out. "But, yes, I suppose it is a nice car. I hardly use it; I would presume you'll have far more use for it than I ever will."

"Hardly use it? You taking the piss?" Eggsy laughed again. It seemed impossible; he would drive that thing at every possible opportunity, if it was his. Peel up to Jamal's house with Dizzee Rascal pulsing through those bass speakers, sunglasses at night, just to be an arse... Heh. The look on Jamal’s face would almost be worth everything.

"Do you have more than one? And whereabouts do you live?"

Harry smiled wryly, and he lifted his eyebrows. "Why? Planning on wrecking the first one? No, I've only got the one and, considering how useless I've found it, I don't plan on buying another any time soon. I prefer to use my private driver; he operates a much more discreet vehicle," Harry explained. "And I've got a house over in Knightsbridge."

Eggsy rubbed at his face, letting all of that process. Lamborghini Aventador, private driver, Knightsbridge? Holy shit. That... was all the opposite of what he had known for 24 years. He didn't quite know how to feel about any of this. He drank some more of his beer as an excuse to do something, to give himself time to pull some thoughts together. "...Wow. How're you not married already?"

Harry could practically see the gears turning in Eggsy's head as he listed the assets he very nearly took for granted. It was a reminder that he did, in fact, belong to the privileged few, a class Eggsy definitely did not belong to. Or was used to associating with, probably. "As difficult as you might find it to believe, money is not the only factor in a marriage proposal. Most of them, anyways," he added as a bit of an afterthought.

Eggsy just shook his head again, finding it difficult to comprehend that no one enticing enough to Harry had made him an offer he'd already accepted. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Eggsy said nothing, instead busying himself with the dregs of his drink again. He felt a little bad that he was making himself out to be nothing more than some sort of money-obsessed person, which he wasn’t. But Eggsy couldn't help it. He'd been hungry too many nights, he'd done one too many things he regretted to make sure they made the rent. From the minimal amount of talking he'd done, he found Harry to be a decent enough guy. Eggsy wasn't crazy about him, but he could make it work. Probably.

As the silence stretched onwards, Harry began wondering if he'd said something wrong. Perhaps insinuating that the only reason Eggsy was after Harry was for his money had been a step too far, even if there was some truth to it. All of this was mostly Dean's fault, after all. Eggsy was more of a bystander dragged into other people's machinations. "I've had offers," he said, just to break the tension. "Several."

"Mm?" Eggsy’s previous excitement and enthusiasm were gone, setting him back to the distant sort of interest he’d had when he first sat down. "And why noes to them, then?"

"Lack of mutual interest," Harry said simply. "I've never particularly wanted to get married; it seems more of an inconvenience than anything." Until an even bigger inconvenience had come along, Harry added silently, thinking ruefully of the promotion.

That was certainly something Eggsy could understand. After all, those were quite similar to his own reasons for being unattached despite the increasing pressure he had begun to feel the past few years. 'Get married, have kids, it's your _job_...' But it sounded like a massive pain, being forced to give up on things he wanted to do in order to raise a family out of obligation. At least Harry’s reluctance made sense. Eggsy couldn't see himself being able to race in the streets or go out at night with a wife or husband or kids. And with what little he knew of Harry, mainly that he was a workaholic, his reluctance fit there too. He hummed once as he thought.

Harry drained his glass for the second time that day, welcoming the slow burn of brandy down his throat. He was going to have to start keeping alcohol around the house more often if this was going to be his life. Eggsy wasn't _bad_ by any means (he could be far, far worse), but this meeting wasn't going as well as Harry would have liked. "I'm sure you've had a few offers yourself. None of them catch your eye?"

Eggsy gave a mirthless smile, exhaling a quiet laugh. “Heh. Yeah, guess I have. I haven’t been ... interested, I guess. Been wanting to do my own shit. I‘m sure you of all people get that, eh?”

Harry nodded slowly in agreement. He'd been holding out hope that perhaps marriage wouldn't change his life too much after all, but he was beginning to lose that hope. Eggsy didn't seem like the type of person to fade quietly into a background. "Hopefully you won't find yourself too tied down," he said, with a small, tight smile.

Eggsy knew looks like that, the strained expression that meant the person was trying to force a smile. Lovely. He hated those. Once again feeling frustrated, he played with his glass just for something to do, and began to wonder how long they would be here. "Nah, doubt it."

Eggsy’s fidgeting didn't escape Harry's notice, and he sighed heavily. "Eggsy. I realize that this isn't, perhaps, the life you'd imagined for yourself, or one that you particularly want. We still have time before the wedding; I suggest that you figure out whether or not living with me will be worth it before then, as I have no interest in living with someone who resents me." He paused for a second, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts. "If you want out, say so."

"I don't resent you,” Eggsy answered immediately, eyes shooting up to look at Harry. Eggsy frowned, more out of concentration than anything else. "... Harry, I'm sorry I'm not being a fucking delight right now. I’m not oblivious to the fact that I ain't your first pick. But... I dunno, I'm meeting my fiancé for the first time. My _fiancé_ , the person I'm committing the rest of my life to, and I'm meeting him after knowing my good-for-nothing stepdad engaged me to him less than three days ago." He let the serious look slide away, and gave Harry a tired smile. "I don't know much about you, Har. But I already know I could have had a much worse draw for arranged fiancés. I'm sorry I ain't the best draw either, but you’ve gotta give me time, yeah? I'm a decent guy, if you give me time to panic out the surprise, anyway."

Eggsy felt weird, laying his thoughts out like that. He didn't usually do it, but he didn't want to blow this. Not for himself, not for his mum, not for Daisy. Not if it would help. "...So, sorry this is weird or whatever. But I'm not always this... fucked. Heh."

Harry blinked, a little taken aback by Eggsy's tirade. He hadn't expected anything other than a “thanks for that, bye” and a quick dash out the door. But it appeared Eggsy had a few surprises up his sleeve. In all honesty, Harry was a little relieved. The young man was hardly the worst he could have gotten either, especially with a stepfather like Dean.

"I didn't think you were fucked," Harry protested with a slight shake of his head. "Just cornered into the situation. I won't drive you off if you wish to stay, I simply want you to be aware of what you're getting into. I'm not going to have a lot of time to spend with you, especially not if I get the promotion. I don't always... connect with people, you might say." Sighing, he passed one hand over his eyes. "You won't have a very affectionate husband, I'm afraid. All I can promise is to try my best not to make you completely miserable."

"I figured." Maybe once they were actually married they could agree on an arrangement where Eggsy could get attention if and when he wanted it, from people other than Harry if he was going to be so busy. That wouldn't be the end of the world, either. It might be nice to just sort of exist without being screamed at and sent on errands for useless things at all hours of the night. Eggsy almost wanted to say as much. "I'll live without it." Again, not ideal, not what he had hoped for when he had grown up and learned he would have to be someone's husband someday, but he could adapt. And learn.

The slight hint of resignation in Eggsy's tone nettled Harry, but what was he supposed to do about it? He couldn't very well change his personality for a fiancé he'd never expected to have, to suit a marriage he'd never desired. Perhaps he would be more inclined to put some effort into it later, when they were actually married, but he doubted it. Men like him didn't get to the places they were in because they were content to sit back and dote on a significant other. Eggsy would have a comfortable life with all the luxuries he'd been denied growing up; that would have to suffice. "Good."

For whatever reason, that single word made Eggsy want to go home. See his mother. After a moment's pause, he slid the paper coaster away from his beer and wrote down his cell phone number, handing it over to Harry. "There, just text me and tell me when I need to be somewhere or know something for this, eh." He managed to give Harry the same drained-looking smile, eyes traveling over his face as though he needed to remember what he looked like. "Good, then?"

Harry folded the paper carefully, tucking it away in his pocket to add to his phone later. "Just one question before you go," he said thoughtfully. "How involved would you and your family like to be in the planning of the wedding? I'll cover all the expenses, naturally, but there are still details to be worked out."

Eggsy thought for a moment, trying to imagine what sort of decisions went into a wedding; the only one he'd been to was his mother's, and that had been quite awhile ago. Besides that, he had no idea the scope Harry was thinking. For something like this, Eggsy couldn't imagine he'd want more than a short, simple ceremony with maybe a dinner afterwards. It would be enough to make his mother happy, at least. Dean would no doubt be there, much as he wished he could “lose” his invitation, but maybe he would behave himself.

Eggsy cleared his throat to bring his thoughts back to flowers or songs or whatever it was he was supposed to be deciding on. "...I don't think we'll be too picky on anything. I want my sister to be in it and my friends to be there. Anything else, you can text me if you want. I don’t know all that goes into shit like this, whatever you do will probably be fine. Unless you want to have me dressed in a lime green tropical suit or something," he added with a slight smirk.

"Sister?" Harry asked, tilting his head to one side. Dean hadn't mentioned a sister and Harry briefly wondered why he had been offered Eggsy instead. "There's always a bridesmaid position, although I'm not sure what that would be categorized as in this case," he mused with a small smile. "You can invite as many friends as you like; they'll probably be the majority of the guests, considering I've not been in the business of making friends with most of my colleagues."

"Probably more like flower girl, than a ... groomsmaid I guess, if you want that sort of thing. She's gonna be 3 in a few months." Eggsy smiled vaguely, imagining how happy that would make Daisy, dressing up and tossing fake flower petals everywhere as she ran toward him. She would adore that. But he nodded, though he couldn't imagine inviting more than Ryan and Jamal. Maybe he could think of someone else, but that was really it as far as his friends went.

Therein lay the answer to Harry’s unasked question. The sister wasn’t even three. "Flower girl, then. And ring bearer also, perhaps, unless you've got a younger brother I should know about too." Harry didn't intend for the ceremony to be large (who, after all, did they really have to impress?) but he couldn't deny a touch of fondness for many of the older wedding traditions he'd seen played out several times over the course of his life.

Eggsy grinned. "Nah, just Dais. I’m sure she'd be happy to. That's really it for me, then." He grabbed his phone, making sure he had it, as he always did before he left anywhere, and started to get up. "Thanks," he said, though he wasn’t quite sure why. It seemed like the thing to say. He rummaged in his pockets, looking for money to throw down for the beer he’d had.

Harry stretched out a hand to stop him, not quite touching Eggsy but making it clear what he was trying to do. "Don't worry about that, Eggsy. I'll pay for it," he offered. The cost of one beer wasn't going to make or break him and, besides, this whole thing was kind of his fault anyways.

"Thanks," Eggsy said again, replacing the crumpled bills he'd produced into his pockets, and shoving his hands in too. "I'll, uh. See you around then." Lame parting words, but he didn't know what else he was supposed to say, and he wasn't going to sweat it too much.

"Yes... I'll text you later, I suppose. Once I've figured out a few more of the details," Harry assured him, pulling out his wallet in lieu of looking over at Eggsy. He was feeling distinctly awkward again, and he hated it, wondered just how long it would take for that particular quality to fade out of their relationship.

"Yeah. Later then, bruv." And with nothing else to do, Eggsy raised a hand in parting. He started off for the door with his usual slow, somewhat swaggering walk, fishing his phone from his pocket to let his mother know he was on his way home. She'd want to know all the details, of course… He could take his time getting back.

As much as Harry might not want to admit it, and would ardently deny it if asked, his eyes tracked Eggsy all the way out of the door until he couldn't see him anymore. He resisted the temptation to just text him immediately and make sure the number worked before throwing down enough to pay for the beers and making his way out to his private car.

-

While he couldn't exactly say he adapted well, or speedily even, over the next several days Eggsy calmed down quite considerably. His angst and anger lessened, snapping at his mother and stepdad decreased, and time spent out with his friends only went up. He was adapting, savouring the last bits of being single he had for however long he had them. He didn't know exactly how, but he knew his life was going to change, and soon.

The more time he spent away from, and reflecting on, Harry, the more at peace Eggsy was with the inevitable change. He didn't exactly like the man, not in so many words, but he didn't hate him, and that was definitely a start. Harry had made him smile once or twice, laugh once, and had promised to be a stable if not affectionate husband. He could learn to live with someone like that.

He'd told Ryan and Jamal the details they had asked for: his fiancé was attractive, older but not elderly by any means, wealthy enough to drive a good car, though just _how_ good Eggsy was keeping to himself, hoping to surprise them one day if Harry would ever let him drive it, and required low commitment from the sound of it. They sympathized with him on the child front, cringing before they could stop themselves at the thought of being subjected to it personally, but they bought him drinks while he could still have them and made sure he was away from Dean as much as possible.

Eventually Harry did text him, something simple to ensure the number was working.

Eggsy added him to his phone under "fiancé" with a winking smiley face at the end. There were a few conversations back and forth, mostly on the marriage front, though Eggsy found that he had sent him a few text messages when he had been truly shitfaced, mostly reading along the lines of "eyyyyy futre husbnad are uj doing ok?" He had no recollection of them when he read the exchanges in the morning.

Overall, Eggsy was feeling better. Once one accepted the knowledge that one's life was taking a rather unexpected and dramatic turn, it wasn't the end of the world to move forward. Eggsy accepted that he wasn't getting the marriage he had wanted, the husband or wife who loved him and the kids born in a life of love that he had heard he was originally brought into. He was going to marry someone secure, and bring up a child eventually that he, at least, would love unconditionally. While there might not be love, there would be food and perks, and that was more than enough for Eggsy. He could abandon his anger, or rather save it for where it was well deserved (Dean was eventually going to need an ass kicking), and he actually felt optimistic for his next meeting with Harry. Maybe this time would be better and start them on much better terms for their inevitable wedding.

After texting Harry back and forth a few times to find a good time in his busy day, they had agreed to meet for Eggsy's first ever suit fitting, because hell if he knew what sizes and general measurements to get to rent the suit he'd need. And of course Eggsy had suggested something along the lines of lunch if they had time, even if, as he said, “it was only something like a greasy burger on the walk or whatever.” Any excuse to see Harry again that folded in with his schedule.

Eggsy waited at the place Harry had given him, dressed more casually than before with just a dark blue jacket and polo with his jeans and accentuating snapback, hands shoved in his pockets lest he touch something he shouldn't. Harry should show up at any time. He'd seemed receptive enough to meeting again, making a few decisions in person, (almost like a date) for which Eggsy was grateful.

Meanwhile, Harry's life went on as usual with, perhaps, a bit more respect from both his inferiors and superiors. His wedding wasn't a secret, and they didn't treat their approval of it to be one either. The coveted promotion was offered on the condition that some proof was provided when it actually happened -- a ring would be more than enough to suffice -- and Harry accepted coolly, careful not to seem too eager. Thus assured of his success, he found it much easier to relax and even start looking forward to the event, despite the time he was sinking into planning the damn thing.

Thank the heavens people usually only got married once, because Harry couldn't imagine going through this hell again. He'd thought it was going to be something easy, considering the simplicity of their wedding, but it seemed nothing to do with marriage was allowed to be easy. He found himself texting Eggsy much earlier than he had planned to simply because a million questions were piling up and he didn't want to bombard Eggsy with them all at once. So one day Harry sent him a simple “I do hope this is Eggsy Unwin's number” and, when he'd gotten a response in the affirmative, had set to crossing some of those questions off the list.

Music taste (very much clashed with Harry's, but he'd do his best to work something in), cake preference (maybe a chocolate wedding cake wasn't typical but fuck typical, Harry loved chocolate), and exactly how many people he wanted to invite (it was going to be a small crowd).

And, yes, intermixed with those answers were some rather unusual texts obviously written while inebriated. Harry didn't pay much attention to them, choosing not to respond. It didn't serve to discourage Eggsy, but they weren't enough of a bother to care.

They decided to meet again in order to arrange Eggsy's fitting, as he'd never had a suit before; at least, not one worthy of a wedding. Harry had decided he might as well get fitted for a new one himself, because if there was any occasion one could justify buying a suit for, it was one's own wedding. Miraculously, he'd managed to clear some time in his busy schedule and set up a meeting with Eggsy at one of his favorite tailoring shops, a little place called Kingsman. He would stake his life on its reputation. And when Eggsy wanted to make a day of it, Harry cleared the rest of his schedule, because there were just some things one did for their fiancé.

Of course, Harry was late to their meeting. Perpetually late, that was one of his many character flaws, and he strolled into Kingsman about ten minutes after their agreed upon time, eyes landing on Eggsy immediately as there weren't any other customers. That wasn’t by accident, but Eggsy didn’t have to know that. "Sorry I'm late. The taxi got caught up in traffic."

Eggsy had been leaning in to look curiously at the bust of a mannequin dressed up to display the patterning of a very handsome three piece with his back to the door. Once he heard the voice obviously addressing him, he took a step back from it, turning a bit to throw a grin over his shoulder as Harry walked in. “It’s no problem, gave me plenty of time to have a mini heart attack over the price of pocket squares. Fucking insane.” Smirking, he took a few steps toward Harry, hands still firmly planted in his pockets. “Sorry for pulling you away, but I’d probably cock this up if I went about it by myself.”

"I'm sure you wouldn't have had too many problems," Harry told him, already glancing around the familiar interior. "The staff here are very experienced, and you're a capable young man." He wandered over to the pocket squares, picking one up to examine it before looking at the price. "And this hardly warrants a heart attack," he said nonchalantly.

"Says you," Eggsy snickered, shaking his head. "It's like £60 for a decorative silk square you don’t even use." But he grinned, glancing around to the tailor who had greeted him when he came in, standing behind a desk and doing something with a cloth measurer and some fabric. "This is him, so we're ready for you whenever you're ready for us, guv."

The tailor glanced up at them when Eggsy spoke, looking over at Harry as if to confirm that the underdressed young man wasn't actually just pulling his leg.

Harry replaced the pocket square and went to stand over by Eggsy's side. "Yes, this will be my fiancé's first time getting fitted for a suit, so I expect you'll do it properly," he said coolly. "This _is_ the first time you've been fitted for a suit, right?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth a second later, glancing down at Eggsy briefly.

Eggsy just chuckled and nodded, glancing up at Harry in return. He grinned at the tailor again, smugly this time. He hadn't given it much mind when the tailor had originally greeted him and asked very pointedly if he needed anything, clearly doing so because hell if Eggsy belonged there. Puffing up his chest a bit, he jerked his head toward one of the rooms, saying, "Following you."

Lips pressed into a thin line, the tailor just got out his measuring tape and the key to the first fitting room, clearing his throat to dispel some of the awkwardness.

Eggsy looked back at Harry with his eyebrows raised."You're coming in too, yeah?"

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "That's not how it's generally done, but I suppose if you really want me there, I can go in as well. I can't see as I'll be of much help," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

"Won't need help being measured," Eggsy shrugged, moving carefully around the various stands in his way. "Just thought we could talk in there, you know? Something other than me staring at my reflection or him. I'll be bored with just that. And I'm sure you wanna get things figured out, yeah? C'mon then." He hovered by the door, waiting.

"Fine, fine," Harry conceded. He would have to wait for Eggsy to be finished before he could be measured himself anyways, not that he was expecting much of a change. Most of his suits still fit, but it was always possible that he'd put on a few pounds since his last bespoke suit. Besides, Eggsy was likely to be more entertaining than the rows of suits. Maybe. He trailed in behind them, closing the door and standing off to one side.

Pleased to have gotten his way, Eggsy entered and stood where he was supposed to based on the layout of the room. He took off his hat and slid off his jacket, touching his hair to fix the ruffling from his hat. "How many times you had something like this done, Har? You had the name ready to go and all."

Harry leaned up against one wall casually, folding his arms over his chest and crossing one leg over the other. "Quite a few times. At least fourteen, judging by the number of suits I own," he told Eggsy, taking in the new look he got of him. It was somewhat odd seeing Eggsy without his hat and bulky jacket.

The tailor cleared his throat. "If you could hold your arms out to the side, please, sir."  

Humming agreeably, Eggsy did as he asked, lifting and holding up his arms. Once he was certain he was in the proper position for the tailor to begin his measurements, he grinned at Harry through one of the three mirrors propped up in front of him and whistled. “Whoo, fourteen? You better be on someone’s Christmas card list.”

The tailor got to work, largely ignoring the two men except for the particular body part he needed at the moment.

One corner of Harry's mouth edged up into a grin and he shook his head. "Sadly, no. They're mostly wasted on my coworkers who don't bother to appreciate good fashion. They're all far too busy for that."

“Shame,” Eggsy hummed with a smirk, watching the measurements happening in the mirror instead. It felt a little weird. He couldn’t help standing at his full height and almost subconsciously sucked in his non-existent gut. “You should take them my Adidas jacket then, I‘m sure they’ll appreciate it plenty.”

Harry couldn't help but chuckle softly at the image that pulled up in his head. "I wonder if they'd even notice if I came in wearing that," he mused, nodding towards the jacket Eggsy had discarded. “They probably wouldn't care, even if they did." They tended to stay away from him, not that he minded or made any attempt to change the situation. He liked his privacy well enough.

“I think you’d look good,” Eggsy grinned, unable to help himself. He’d only met Harry once before, granted, but the impression was enough that picturing him in his jacket and hat with his serious expression was enough to make Eggsy laugh. “You could pull that off.”

He shifted a bit, doing as the tailor was clearly requesting him to do. After a moment of adjusting, he looked back to Harry and asked the question his mum had been asking quite a bit. He had been putting off asking under the justification of wanting to do so in person. “When, eh... When were we doing this?”

The smile that had been there as Harry pictured himself in Eggsy's style faded a bit, and he glanced at his reflection instead of actually facing him. "I don't know. I wanted to get a few more plans nailed down before I made anything official. And then, of course, there was the matter of making sure it agreed with you. I'm set to get the promotion once it happens, so sooner is better than later."

“Agreed with me?” Eggsy blinked, looking at him through the reflection as well, but only since he was currently unable to move much without an indignant huff. “You mean if I panicked and wanted out or something? I figured there was something coming up that you’d want to time it with.” He frowned at himself, pursing his lips as he thought for a moment. “... What kinda promotion is it, anyway? Partner or tenure or something like that?”

"Agreed with you as in 'didn't conflict with your schedule.' Although I suppose it would be helpful to know if you were planning on leaving me at the altar," Harry explained, shifting his position slightly. "I'm going to be promoted to the managerial department. Head of Stocks and Bonds, a position about as exciting as it sounds," he sighed.

“What schedule.” Eggsy snorted, glancing at him almost sheepishly. “Yeah, alright, I mean I ain’t planning on leaving you hanging, obviously.”

The tailor seemed to be wrapping up finally, so Eggsy took the opportunity to stretch out his arms while he looked over at Harry, an almost uncertain smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “... Sounds important, whatever that is. Advance congrats, then, eh?”

Nodding in acknowledgement of the sentiment, Harry pushed himself off the wall. He finally shifted his focus to the real Eggsy instead of his reflection, tilting his head towards his clothes. "Put those on and meet us back on the main floor; we've a few details to work out," he said, already moving to exit the dressing room, the tailor following after him.

Eggsy only jerked his head in a vague nod, not bothering to answer when it was rhetorical anyway. Once they left him alone, he took his time in grabbing his jacket and hat and putting them back on. It would only have taken him a second to grab them and tug them on on the walk out, but Harry seemed to want a moment alone in the lobby. He granted him that, staring at his own reflection with narrowed eyes. This felt weird, but he was doing okay. Probably. After stalling a bit, he left again, hands shoved in his pockets.

By the time Eggsy made his way back out, the tailor had taken his position behind the desk back up and was busily working at recording Eggsy's and Harry’s measurements.

Harry turned to face Eggsy from where he'd been lingering near the rows of suits as if he couldn't bear to leave them quite yet. "I believe lunch was mentioned," he said, moving to stand over by him. "Did you have a particular place in mind?"

“Nah.” Eggsy likewise eyed the door, not quite anxious, but ready to leave the place he felt ill suited to. “Could kill for some chips, though,” he offered, tilting his head as he looked at Harry and slowly began inching his way over toward the door.

It didn't take a psychologist to figure out that Eggsy was uneasy, ready to leave the shop, and Harry bid a reluctant goodbye to the formal wear. "Alright. I'm sure there's a shop nearby that sells chips without you having to kill anyone," he teased gently.

“We’ll just have to see about that one,” Eggsy teased back.

When Harry moved to follow him out of the shop, he exited and stood with his back to the street, waiting for him to join him. He’d been so distracted on his way over, bent on making sure he was in the right place and not wandering into some strange shop for no reason, that he had forgotten to take a picture. “Hold on,” he murmured as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, opening up Snapchat. He turned around so his back was to the window display of several rather beautiful suit coats and the gilded writing that shone in the sunlight. Aligning the camera so his face and ‘KINGSMAN’ were both visible, Eggsy tilted his head and his eyebrows and made a smirking smile, snapping a photo.

“Alright, ready,” he said as he typed ‘measured for a suit #classyasshit’ and saved the photo so he could send a copy to his mum before he sent it off to his story so everyone could see it. Once Eggsy was finished, he pocketed his phone again, still smirking as he said, “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

Harry stepped out of the shop and glanced around, trying to think of what was nearby that Eggsy might like. There were a few shops on the Row, but most of them were fancy enough that they might make him uncomfortable, especially considering the informal way he was dressed. People who ate in restaurants like that usually didn't make a secret of their disapproval, especially when it came to differences in class, and Harry didn't want to needlessly drag Eggsy into that. He'd rather stand out in a lower end place for being too formal than have it the other way around.

Busy thinking along those lines, Harry barely noticed what Eggsy was doing until he raised his arm up, phone in hand. "What was that?" he asked after Eggsy had lowered it again and assured him he was ready.

"Sent a picture to my mates, and my mum," Eggsy hummed, looking at him with a lazy sort of grin. "Ain't everyday I'm shopping on Savile Row, thought I'd brag at them." He jerked his head as he turned slowly on his heel, starting to back up down the street. "Wherever you wanna go."

It hadn't occurred to Harry that walking down Savile Row could be a special occasion and he blinked, slightly taken aback. "Yes... Well, I was thinking we could go somewhere that isn't on the Row, if that's alright with you."

"Yeah, probably best." The implications of a street kid clearly not of this area trying to even grab a bite to eat around here would be sub-optimal for both him and Harry, and Eggsy really didn't feel like suffering the judgmental side-eye he knew would come. Honestly, he just wanted some chips. Harry would know of some sort of middle ground nearby better than Eggsy would. "Don't mind a walk."

"Who said we had to walk?" Harry asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a set of keys to a very expensive, very luxurious Lamborghini. "I'm sorry; did I say taxi earlier? I'm afraid I'm not used to bringing my own transportation, it must have slipped my mind." He almost sauntered to the flashy Aventador parked on the curb, turning to look back at Eggsy. "But we can walk if you'd prefer."

To be honest, Eggsy was no longer listening. As soon as he spotted the absolutely gorgeous car, he froze, eyebrows raising in surprise and something like awe. It was one thing to look at cars on the internet or flip through magazines every now and then, but it was another thing completely to see one in person. He took hurried steps forward as soon as his hungry eyes took the whole thing in in its beautiful glory and reached forward to graze his fingers against the sleek surface.

After a few seconds to fully appreciate the thing, Eggsy snapped out of it and looked up at Harry with a real grin splitting his face. “If I ever turn down getting in this, I‘m out of my mind.”

The look on Eggsy's face almost made driving the blasted car worth it. Almost. Still, Harry pretended to be deep in thought for a second, pausing with the keys halfway to the lock. "How would you feel about driving it?" he finally asked. "If I'm going to let you take it places while I'm off at work, I would prefer to do so knowing how you'll handle it."

Had Eggsy been drinking anything, he would have choked. The grin on his face turned to a look of complete disbelief as he once again let his eyes linger on the shiny exterior of the car. He had thought Harry would let him drive it, sure, in the same way one might hope to borrow a convertible for prom or something. If he got to get behind that wheel it would be on rare special occasions and at some vague point in the future. When he had heard about Harry owning this car a matter of days ago, he would never have thought that vague point in the future would be so soon. But damned if he was going to let this chance go by.

Before Harry could change his mind, Eggsy recovered from his shock and nodded emphatically, his grin easily sliding back into place. “Yes, Harry,” he sighed happily, taking a few slow steps toward him and the driver’s door. “I’ll be safe, promise,” he said with a grin and a tilt of his head.

Clearly his offer had been unexpected, but Harry couldn't exactly blame Eggsy for being surprised. A few weeks ago, he had probably thought he'd only get to see cars like this in the pages of a magazine, and now he was being handed the keys. Eggsy, it seemed, was easy to please. Good news for Harry.

"If you crash it, I'm not buying a replacement," Harry warned, slipping into the passenger seat after he had given Eggsy the keys. Figuring that would be motivation enough to keep him from driving too recklessly, Harry settled back, hoping he hadn't just made a big mistake.

Needing to restrain himself lest he vibrate from excitement, Eggsy climbed into the driver’s seat. He simply sat there for a moment, admiring the interior. He touched the dashboard and the wheel, reverent, before buckling himself up and turning the key in the ignition. The roar to life and quieted purr was a damned sexy sound.

Harry, who had rested his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, cracked one open when there was no evidence of forward motion. He let Eggsy admire the car because he didn't have anywhere to go, and because he could recognize a quality car even if he couldn't appreciate it.

Eyes closed, head shaking appreciatively, Eggsy glanced over to grin at Harry once again. “You’re gonna have to navigate. Point me where to go.” He’d have to remember to take a selfie in there before they got out.

"Take a left off of this road, then two rights. I'll tell you when to stop when we get there," Harry instructed.

“Aye aye,” Eggsy hummed, and with a quick rev of the engine, he was pulling out onto the street. Ordinarily, he’d be going fast, weaving in and out of other cars just to get there a little bit faster (and show off for his friends and his ego), but this time he was far more careful. He wasn’t slow or overly cautious exactly. It still begged to be shown off, to make other drivers cast longing, jealous glances its way, even if it was Harry’s and he wanted to be careful with it. Showing off was something Eggsy was oh, so happy to do, even if it was only for three blocks. Three was enough for him to get a taste of the car, and fall a little in love with it. When he made the last turn, he eased off the gas, waiting for Harry’s word to stop the car. He rested one hand on the wheel while the other stroked it with gentle fingertips.

Harry was impressed with the self-control Eggsy exhibited, managing to stay mostly around the speed limit and not weaving crazily through traffic, as Harry had feared he might be tempted to do. Besides, it meant he didn't have to drive, which he was more than happy with. It didn't take them long to get the street he was looking for, and he scanned the row of shops until they were nearly there, pointing it out when they approached it. "That one."

Obediently, Eggsy slowed the car to a stop at a suitable parking spot out front, reluctantly pulling his hands from the wheel as they slid into park. Unable to help himself, he once again pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of himself with the wheel in the shot. He added ‘guess what i just drove’ to his Snapchat story and got out of the car. He spared a glance at the shop Harry had had him stop in front of.

It looked decent enough, and Eggsy wasn’t all that picky to begin with. He snapped another quick photo of the car parked on the street with a little flash of Harry’s arm in there as well, added ‘motherfuckin aventador’, and put his phone away again. “See, all in one piece. And you ain’t even too nauseous for food.”

Harry couldn't help his lips twitching up into a small smile. "You did well, Eggsy," he assured him, unfolding himself from the car and moving to the pavement. "While I've no doubt that caution was solely for my sake, I think you've proven that you're capable of handling it responsibly. I'll just imagine that's always the way you’re driving, shall I?" Smiling dryly, he opened the door to the small eatery, holding it for Eggsy.

Eggsy wasn’t about to contradict him. He only winked at Harry as he passed through the doorway, a slight smirk on his face. Stopping a few steps in for Harry to join him again and take the lead, he looked about this way and that, automatically taking in the whole of the place. He doubted there was anyone he knew there. There was only a handful of places he would run into those guys, really, but he wanted to be certain before he got comfortable.

Harry moved up behind Eggsy, placing a hand on his shoulder to steer him in the direction of a booth near the back. He always tried to sit in places that offered him a vantage point without leaving him too exposed, and corner booths were perfect for that. A waitress came by before long to give them each menus, even though Harry had eaten there enough times that he already knew what he wanted.

It seemed decent enough in there, even if it wasn’t the sort of place Eggsy and his friends might have veered into had they been out and about together. Still good, though, he had no doubt he could find something.

Settling down into the booth contentedly, Eggsy flicked open the menu in front of him and busied himself with looking for whatever might be decent enough, given, of course, whatever it was came with chips. That was the most important thing. His stomach growled, and he smirked to himself, though he kept quiet while he flipped through the pages.

"I would recommend the fish and chips they have here," Harry said, menu still lying untouched in front of him. "It's quite good, and I believe you mentioned wanting chips earlier."

"Sold." Sounded perfect to Eggsy. There was almost never a bad time for fish and chips. He closed up the menu without a second glance, leaning back in his seat comfortably.

Harry settled back to wait until the waitress came around again, hunting for a topic of conversation. "I'd like to apologize on behalf of the tailor this morning," he finally said and, okay, it might not have been the best conversation starter, but he wasn't good with small talk.

Eggsy’s smirk turned rather wry, and he shrugged one shoulder. “It’s alright, I’m used to it.” And he was; that sort of thing was fairly common when he went out of his usual routine of places to visit. The mistrusting glances, hovering to make sure he wasn’t going to steal anything, treating him as though they’d like nothing more than to kick him out, but they couldn’t. At a place like Huntsman, Eggsy had seen it coming a mile away. Harry himself had jumped to Eggsy committing grand theft auto when he mentioned he liked to drive fast. But it was fine. Just something he’d learned to deal with. And another reason to avoid leaving his routine.

With that thought, it occurred to Eggsy that he would indeed be completely leaving his routine once this was settled. How… weird. Neither good nor bad, just weird. “I expect I’ll have to adjust a bit sometimes, yeah?” Maybe bury his accent from time to time if Harry needed him to go somewhere to show off that yes, indeed he _was_ married. Or something. Not the end of the world.

"Oh, nonsense," Harry said, already shaking his head. "I dare say that if I have to drag you along to some high-class function with me, you'll be the most interesting person there. Although, I suppose it is true that you will have to adjust somewhat to being around people with lifestyles like that, but you'll have me for practice."

Yes, there would most certainly be changes in both their lives, but Harry didn't want to be married to some rich, high-class snob who acted like a rich, high-class snob. Eggsy was... refreshing.

Eggsy smirked and held back laughter, looking at Harry across the table. “We’ll be alright. Probably,” he added with another snicker. “And you don’t have to apologize. I usually brush it right off.”

At least Eggsy seemed to be the type of person who could do what he wanted without worrying unduly about what others were going to think of him. Harry could see that trait being very useful once he got in among the rich.

The waitress came back to take their orders, and Harry placed his for fish and chips and a cup of Darjeeling.

Eggsy placed his as well, fish and chips and water -- he had never been much of a tea drinker -- flashing a charming smile at the waitress as he did so.

It was quiet again, which he wasn’t too concerned about. They had been doing pretty well so far this time; no awkward subject breaches, no irritation and vague mistrust. As far as he could tell, it seemed it was just the awkward getting-to-know-you phase, and that Eggsy could deal with. The silence was bearable rather than suffocating.

Harry noted the grin Eggsy gave the waitress and the way her face flushed in return. For a brief second, a smile of amusement hung on his own face before he hurriedly dropped it. "Pretty, isn't she?" he asked blandly, tapping his fingers on the table for want of anything else to do with them.

“What?” Eggsy blinked as he returned his attention to Harry, taking a second or two to actually process the question he’d been asked. He had only been half-listening. “Oh, yeah, she’s a cute bird. Nice too. It’s usually one or the other, in my experience,” he rambled, talking just to fill the silence.

"Not had many chance run-ins with decent people, then?" Harry asked rhetorically. He himself was used to being treated with a guarded politeness, which he suspected was brought on by the suit he normally wore. Occasionally, he was even regarded with trepidation. He'd been told that he could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be.

Eggsy shook his head, and silence settled over them once again.


	2. A Meeting

Lunch went decently, a little stiff, a little awkward still, but decent. By the end -- happily stuffed with chips -- Eggsy was ready to get home. He’d asked Harry for a lift back to his flat, partially because he didn’t feel like making the longass walk or calling a friend to borrow a car and pick him up, and partially because he would make any excuse to ride in that car. He gave Harry the address. 

It was a decent ways away even by car, and off they went to the apartment complex Eggsy lived in with his sister, mother, and stepdad. 

Little as he might want to drive, Harry wanted Eggsy walking home even less. So he swallowed down his distaste for it and took his own turn behind the wheel with considerably less enthusiasm than Eggsy had. Still, he got the job done, driving into a neighborhood where his car stuck out like a sore thumb. He parked it a little warily.

When they pulled up to the street, Eggsy turned and asked, “You want to come in for a minute or something? Mum might want to meet you.”

Harry figured it wouldn't be very polite to refuse Eggsy's invitation. "I can imagine she would like to see me at least once before I'm married to you," he muttered in agreement, slipping out of the car and double-checking the locks. Discreetly, of course. He didn’t want to insult Eggsy more than he already had. "Lead the way."

Eggsy tossed him a grin, and, hands in his pockets once again, he led Harry through the concrete walkway and up the sets of stairs winding their way upwards. His feet moved mechanically from many repeated passages. He breezed past the identical doors and stopped by one at the top of a set of stairs. He paused to fish from his jeans the single key he carried on his person, and after scraping it a few times against the very scratched lock, he pulled the door open.

Harry glanced around the place as they walked, taking stock of the dingy flast, the peeling paint on most of the doors, the (frankly depressing) slabs of gray concrete. It wasn't the homiest place he'd ever been in. He followed Eggsy up several flights of stairs before they came to a halt at an ordinary door which Eggsy proceeded to unlock and head into. 

“Mum?” Eggsy held the door open behind him as he entered, peeking around the small flat for signs of … anyone at all, really. At that time of day, he was hoping Dean was off somewhere, but he could never be sure. He might just be in the bedroom.

“Eggsy, that you? You’re home early.” Michelle’s voice floated to the entryway before she actually appeared. A moment later, she turned the corner to the living room with a little girl clinging on to her hip. “Wasn’t expecting you for a few hours-- oh,” she said, seeming to work out exactly why it was that he wasn’t currently making the walk home. 

Eggsy hadn’t texted her any warning; he’d been far too distracted by the car ride itself.

Lingering outside for a bit, Harry waited until he heard Michelle's voice before pressing in behind Eggsy, eyes flicking quickly around to assess the inside of the flat. It was nice enough, he supposed, but bound to be a bit cramped with four residents.

“Mum, this is Harry. Harry, mum.” Eggsy made introductions officially but somewhat distractedly as he reached out to take his little sister from his mother’s arms, so she could meet Harry without worrying about a struggling toddler. 

Daisy shyly kept quiet, burrowing her face into Eggsy’s shoulder.

When Eggsy introduced him, Harry offered Michelle a polite nod, holding his hand out for a handshake when Eggsy relieved her of Daisy. "Pleasure to meet you," he greeted her. 

“Yes, you too.” Michelle smiled as she shook his hand, polite and welcoming, if a bit apologetic as her eyes darted around the tiny kitchen they were cramped in. “Uh, please, come in properly if you like, you don’t have to stand around in the doorway like that.” She was babbling a bit and fell quiet, instead tugging a lock of hair behind her ear.

Eggsy bounced his sister gently, cooing at her and kissing her forehead as he moved around a bit. He glanced up at Harry as his mother went on and shrugged one shoulder, a sort of ‘do what you want,’ gesture. He couldn’t imagine Harry was very comfortable in the flat. Then again, Eggsy had been pretty uncomfortable himself at the shop earlier, and here, at least, his mother was meaning well and trying.

It  _ probably _ wouldn't hurt to stay for a few minutes, Harry supposed, stepping into the kitchen and closing the door behind him. "Yes, well, I can't stay long," he said. "I've a conference at seven this evening, and I've still got a few things to do to prepare for it." He tended to procrastinate with things like that, and he had a couple of slides to perfect. 

He glanced over at Eggsy, his gaze softening minutely as he watched him with his sister. He might not be particularly fond of children, but he still found the sight strangely endearing.  

“Oh yes, Eggsy mentioned you was a businessman,” Michelle said pleasantly, still smiling. 

Eggsy bit his lip.  _ Dean _ had mentioned. Several times. Eggsy had mentioned it once in passing when his mother had asked how their meeting had gone. But he couldn’t blame her for leaving Dean’s part in it out. 

"Yes, I'm involved in the terribly exciting world of stocks and real estate," Harry informed Michelle, part of his attention focused on Eggsy as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip. Clearly, there was more to that than Harry knew, but he didn’t press. 

“Fancy a cuppa, then?” Michelle asked. “I was just about to make myself some, only Miss Daisy had been causing a fuss about it.”

“Sounds right,” Eggsy agreed, scrunching up his nose to make a playful face at the little girl in his arms, who giggled quietly at him. “You causing trouble, little flower?” He hummed at her as he pulled out a seat at the kitchen table and set her into it. Kissing her on the head one final time, he scooted the bowl that had clearly been full of some snack she had been nibbling on a while ago towards her. 

Once she was settled down and occupied, he took a few steps away to rejoin his mother and Harry. 

Michelle was pulling a kettle down from a very cramped and full cabinet. Somehow it was also empty, mostly full of useless items one accrues, not real food. She busied herself filling the kettle with water as Eggsy leaned against the counter. 

Harry’s lips pursed slightly at the state of the cabinet interior. He didn’t catch a glimpse of anything of value, though he wasn't looking at it long. He wondered briefly if things were worse off than Eggsy had made them seem.

“Harry showed me his car, mum. Gave me a lift back in it and all.” Grinning, Eggsy looked from his mother to Harry again.

He glanced up again as Eggsy spoke, reminding him that he was going to have to drive himself home. "It seems to be to Eggsy's liking," Harry stated seriously. 

Michelle hummed. As she set up the kettle to boil, she turned around again to smile between the two of them, once more fiddling with her hair. 

“Only slightly.” Eggsy grinned at Harry. “Was a Lambo, mum. He let me drive it for a few blocks too.” His mum opened her mouth and gave him a look, clearly about to say something scolding, but he held up his hands with an innocent smile. “Went fine, promise.”

Harry huffed out a little laugh at the look on Michelle's face, disguising it as a cough as Eggsy jumped to his own defense. "He really did quite well," he assured her. "I was expecting a few more gray hairs by the end of it, but I don't think they've come in." 

Eggsy grinned appreciatively at him as he made a small sweeping gesture with his hand toward him. "See? I didn't shake him up too bad either."

Michelle only rolled her eyes, reaching up to pull down some cups as the kettle boiled away. "Right. Well with that trajectory, looks like you'll be fine. And wreck free," she added with a sidelong look at Eggsy who only grinned again, recognizing the teasing for what it was. 

"I realize I probably should have asked this  _ before _ getting in a car with you, but have you ever wrecked one before?" Harry asked, Michelle's teasing making him realize that he genuinely didn't know.

Michelle said nothing, but looked at Eggsy expectantly, with a mother's edge of ‘tell the truth, young man, or I will.’

Eggsy simply looked mildly sheepish. "Sort of? Before I went off to the Marines, I had a last hurrah with some mates. Ryan let me borrow his wheels so I could do my last minute driving on the way to a club, but we was laughing, and I didn't see the fox wander out into the road. Swerved to avoid it, hit a wall. Nothing terrible, no one got hurt, car door and hood got messed the fuck up though. Just finished paying him back a few months ago." He shrugged. "Nothing horrible, but mum won't let it go."

"She will not," Michelle huffed.

Harry's eyes closed momentarily, but he only shook his head. "I'll just remind you that if you wreck that car, I'm not replacing it, shall I?" he muttered, leveling a bit of a look at Eggsy. "I can't say that I blame you entirely for your earlier wreck, but if it comes down to a choice between the Aventador and an animal, I would prefer you save the car."

Eggsy nodded, giving him a half-smile. "Bit of a difference between an Aventador and a mate's old Camry, but I hear you loud and clear, guv."

"Right. Thank you, Eggsy, that's a weight off my mind," Harry said wryly, only half serious. It could have been quite a bit worse, he figured. Eggsy could have had multiple accidents, or a more severe one. Harry could actually care about the state of his car. As things stood, he still had every intention of letting Eggsy use the Aventador whenever he liked.

Eggsy only grinned at him again, pleased he didn't seem to have changed his mind. 

Michelle poured out the tea in the three cups she had brought down and distributed them, Eggsy going right for the sugar bowl and dumping what some might call an excessive amount of sugar in it. Michelle smiled and nervously twiddled her hair again. She was mildly stressed, Eggsy knew, wanting to leave a good impression while being mildly intimidated, and trying not to think too much about it all. Harry was older than she was by the look of it, and would technically be her son-in-law. How strange.

"...Eggsy tells me you have everything sorted on your own for the wedding, but I'll be happy to help with any of the arranging or set up if you need me to," Michelle offered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"That's quite alright... Mrs. Unwin." It suddenly occurred to Harry that no matter what he called her it was going to feel a little awkward. Mrs. Unwin seemed a bit formal for their impending relationship, but it was still the first time he'd ever met her. "Of course, if you'd like to have a hand in the preparations, I won't keep you from them. In all honesty, I could probably use a little bit of help." It wasn’t like Harry had paid much attention to the weddings he'd been invited to, nor did he care to go wedding-hopping just to get a feel for what they were like.  

Eggsy’s grin had slid from his face as Harry spoke, face rather impassive as he looked down at the scuffed up tiled floor rather than his mother or Harry.

She gave a little laugh, flipping a bit of her hair behind her shoulder. “It’s, eh, Mrs. Baker, actually. But things as they are, you can probably just call me Michelle, skip all that. I’ll be glad to help. Planned my share of weddings before. It’ll be nice to put it all to good use.” 

Harry nodded once. "Perhaps I should just hire you and let you take over it all," he suggested. "I've really got enough to do otherwise to keep me busy without having to arrange everything as well." 

There was the sound of a key in the lock just seconds after he'd finished speaking, and then the door was swinging open. A loud, male voice called from the entryway. "Michelle! Michelle, you in here? Some bloke's bloody parked his car right in front of our fucki-" Dean stopped when he spotted Harry and Eggsy, gaze flicking in between the two of them. 

Michelle's eyes flicked over to the door as soon as it opened, and she smiled, abandoning her cup to take a few steps forward toward him. "Yes. Sorry, love, I didn't think you'd be home yet. I'm sure you remember Mr. Hart?" Her voice was sweet, smile still on her face as she looked up at Dean. 

Eggsy's body language had shifted, his arms crossing over his chest, subconsciously closing himself off. He only looked up at his stepdad with his head lowered, eyes partially squinted as his only acknowledgment.

Dean swaggered over to Michelle, draping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a sloppy kiss before he even made an attempt to acknowledge Harry or Eggsy. "Yeah, of course I remember him," he drawled once he'd pulled away. "Better watch you don't get on his bad side, eh, Eggsy?" Dean laughed, smirking over at the younger man. "I saw him-"

"I think he gets the point, Mr. Baker," Harry interrupted, leveling Dean with a look. "I'm sure Eggsy isn't planning on doing anything I wouldn't approve of." 

As soon as Dean mentioned it, Harry's "bad side," a missing piece of information he had forgotten seemed to smack Eggsy upside the head. He still had no idea how Dean had met Harry in the first place. 

Harry had been dodgy about it before, choosing not to answer (and Eggsy hadn't pressed it; he hadn't much cared at the time), and like hell was Eggsy going to talk to Dean if he didn't have to. But that sounded a bit shadier than he had envisioned. Harry had seemed like a straightforward if sort of stiff workaholic posh bloke, but was there something he needed to worry about? What if he was just trading one bad situation for another? 

Fuck.

Eggsy's obstinate posture lessened a bit as he looked at Harry, studying him even as he answered. "...Don't think that'll be much of a problem, but thanks for the  _ concern _ ." He turned to face Dean as he spoke, eyes prying themselves away from Harry. 

Dean's eyes narrowed as if sensing that there was something a bit amiss between the two of them. His grin cracked ever wider, and he chuckled. "Gotta look out for you, ain't I, Muggsy? I’m sure you won't piss him off  _ too _ much." 

"That's enough, Mr. Baker," Harry snapped, a little more forcefully than he'd intended. He closed his eyes briefly, reining himself in and forcing himself to calm down. "As I said," he repeated slowly, "I have every confidence that Eggsy isn't going to disappoint me." Glancing at his untouched tea a bit wistfully, he sighed. "I think it's better if I go." 

At this point, Eggsy almost felt like a small child being handed off to a babysitter rather than a fully grown fucking adult. An adult who was being denied what sounded like pretty important information by the sound of it. Eggsy narrowed his eyes again at Dean, but stood up properly, taking the opportunity to scoot himself away from his red faced stepdad and open the door for Harry.

Michelle frowned, not much liking the tone the conversation had taken, but unsure how or even if to steer it back properly. Besides, Harry had said he couldn't stay long. Maybe it was best; a confrontation was the last thing she wanted. And knowing Dean and Eggsy as well as she did, one was going to come anyway.

Giving Michelle a nod of farewell and ignoring Dean entirely, Harry turned to make his way to the door. He stopped near Eggsy, turning to face him, half in and half out of the door. "Do me a favor and don't take what he said into account. You have nothing to fear from me," he muttered, tilting his head slightly in Dean's direction.

Eggsy looked up at Harry, meeting his eyes. In the second’s pause, a few thoughts flashed through his mind, namely how the phrase “you have nothing to fear from me” didn’t do much to make one less afraid. But he nodded nonetheless. He may not know Harry very well at all, and clearly there were things he still had to learn, but he felt alright with him, and he knew damn well that Dean was an idiot. “Yeah, alright.”

At least Eggsy was still willing to look at him, Harry thought. He'd been half convinced that Dean would have scared him off with that little scene. Not that he'd really done much to be reassuring. His behavior had been nothing if not suspicious. Still, he only allowed himself a small, internal sigh of relief when Eggsy just said “yeah, alright”, and he offered him a tight smile. "I'll see you soon, then. Goodbye, Eggsy."

“See ya, Harry. Thanks for today.” Eggsy gave him a tired smile of his own, one he hoped showed the right amount of gratitude and apology as he closed the door behind him. 

Harry found himself on the other side of the closed door, with only the drive home facing him. Sighing, he dug the keys out of his pocket and began down the flights of stairs. 

-

"Give you a proper warning, did he, Muggsy?" Dean sneered once Harry had well and truly gone. 

The second the door had shut, Eggsy’s smile dropped. Harry hadn’t been much of a comfort being there, but he was enough of a deterrent to know Dean would keep himself in check. Without Harry there, Eggsy was none too pleased with the situation facing him. His mother had returned to Daisy, picking her up and holding her by the kitchen table area. 

Eggsy walked to the abandoned cups and placed them in the sink, thoroughly ignoring Dean.

"Ain't very good manners to ignore someone when they've asked you a question," Dean growled, striding over to Eggsy. He didn't hit him, just crowded up into his space like he was used to doing. He stared down at him with a curled lip. 

"I don't like to answer questions that don't need an answer," Eggsy said with an even voice, his eyes firmly fixed on the cups in the sink. He tensed his shoulders at the invasion of space, but refused to move, to yield any ground. 

Dean's eyes narrowed, and he just stared at Eggsy for a bit, looked at the hunched shoulders and determined set of his jaw. Then he burst into a throaty chuckle and clapped Eggsy on the back. "Just don't fuck this up, hear me, Eggsy? This is the best chance you've got."

Eggsy wanted to punch him.

Instead, he sighed, “Yeah, I know," as he turned away from him. 

By now, Michelle had taken Daisy back to their space in the living room they had been in when Eggsy had arrived. That left him the option of either retreating to his bedroom or going back out, though he really had nowhere to go. 

Dean didn't miss the slight rise he pulled out of Eggsy and he derived a perverse sense of pleasure out of it. He'd have to figure out some way to get to him even after he was married off; he didn't much like the prospect of losing one of his more successful dealers and, besides, Eggsy would still owe him. It was him, after all, who was keeping Michelle and Daisy alive. That would remain true even with Harry taking Eggsy on. 

In the end, Eggsy shut himself up in his bedroom and tried not to dwell on everything that had just happened. No matter how hard he tried to clear his mind, Dean’s ominous words regarding Harry kept swirling around his thoughts. Eventually, he pulled his pillow over his head and fell into an uneasy sleep. 


	3. A Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, more like before the wedding, but you get my drift.

When Harry was young he had, as most people do, fantasized about his wedding day. It was going to be a grand affair, he was going to be exactly 27 years old, and he was going to be meeting the love of his life at the altar. Grimacing, he stared back at his certainly-not-27-year-old face and finished tying his tie, smoothing it out over the front of his dress shirt before reaching for his jacket. Not grand, not young, and not the love of his life; he was zero for three on the fantasy wedding front.

Michelle had been a godsend over the past few weeks, essentially organizing the entire event herself. All Harry had to do was show up. 

Yet he was finding even that small role a touch difficult. A mere three or four hours from now he and Eggsy would become each other's, a union born of necessity and convenience, not the love he'd been hoping for at first, and then avoiding as he got older. It was for the best. Or so he told himself. 

Eggsy was probably already at the venue, even though there were still two hours until it truly started. He should be there as well, he thought, taking care of last minute preparations. Sighing, Harry took one last reluctant look at himself in the mirror to make sure everything was in place. Then he headed towards his car, which he was actually going to be driving, for once, and headed out.

-

The day had arrived, both a beginning and an ending for Eggsy's life. His days of living with his mother and Dean and doing as he liked were over, which was itself both a blessing and a curse. He'd had his makeshift bachelor party the previous week, getting blackout drunk and partying with his friends as a last hurrah before he tied the arranged knot. 

When the big day dawned, he wasn't as excited as he had thought he would be when he was really little, back before Dean had come into his life. It wasn't the butterfly-inducing anticipation he had anticipated, but it wasn't bad. He looked at it as a party sort of day, where he would have an adult party with his friends. Drinking and dancing and dressing up. He could deal with that.

Eggsy was already dressed in his suit, because why not when he looked this damnably good? His family got to the venue early to help direct the set-up. 

Michelle was excitedly directing people with Daisy clinging to her pant leg while Eggsy stood outside to welcome guests while he chatted with his best men. Jamal and Ryan were a bit uncomfortable in their itchy suits, but they seemed happy enough, chatting with Eggsy and helping move things around when asked.

-

Harry wasn't, and wouldn't ever be, a superstitious man. He had no qualms about potentially seeing Eggsy before their wedding, already dressed up or not. Besides, that only counted with brides in dresses. Still, something must have been getting to him, because he felt a tight coil of nerves in his stomach as he parked his car and unfolded himself from it, leaning against the side and just taking a second to breathe. The reality of the whole situation was hitting him full force now that he was beginning to see actual proof of it, in the form of milling guests and several thankfully understated decorations. He was about to consign Eggsy to a life with him for a job. 

That was a new low, even for him. But, Harry reminded himself, he'd given Eggsy a chance to back out, and he hadn't taken it. Harry couldn't be the only one to blame. Right? 

He ran a hand over his face and pushed off the side of his car. Slowly, he headed towards the entrance to the church where Eggsy stood greeting the few people who had already showed up, mostly other participants in the actual ceremony. His step faltered once, but he quickly recovered, silently hoping he'd been far enough away that nobody would have noticed. Eggsy cleaned up nicely. Very nicely, in fact, and Harry suddenly felt as if his collar were a little too tight. 

"Haven't changed your mind, then?" Harry asked, striding up behind Eggsy. His attempt at nonchalance did little to shove away the thoughts about how Eggsy should wear a suit more often, but he'd had years of practice keeping his face clear that came to his aid now.

Eggsy had been distracted, caught up in a story Ryan had been telling, and didn't notice Harry's approach at all until he was ascending the stairs. Keeping his grin and pleasant mood as he turned to him, Eggsy sniggered, standing more upright than normal -- more thanks to the suit than anything else -- with a hand in his pocket. "Either that, or this is the most elaborate prank I've ever seen." 

Harry didn't look so bad himself. Granted, Eggsy had only ever seen him in various suits already, but this one was extra sharp. Even to Eggsy's laughably amateur eye he could tell how nice it was. And by extension, how handsome his husband-to-be looked. 

He gave Harry an appreciative once-over and threw a look into the building behind him, still bustling with people setting up now and again. "You can go in if you want, but mum's still barking orders about. Haven't seen her this excited in ages." Eggsy grinned at him, as relaxed as though it were someone else's wedding instead of his own.

Harry grimaced, stopping beside Eggsy and peering around him to see into the church. He could see Michelle waving her arms around, snapping at anyone who came near. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as each one beat the same hasty retreat, scuttling off to do whatever it was they were supposed to have already done. 

"I think I'd do better staying out here," Harry said lightly, not really meaning it, of course. This whole thing was thanks to her, seeing as the few wedding plans he'd actually bothered to make hadn't even been included in the final product. Which was probably for the best, if he was honest with himself.

"That’s a good call," Eggsy laughed, shaking his head somewhat fondly. "She saw me in my suit here and fussed over me for ages. I only got away twenty minutes ago." 

His friends raised their hands in a wave of farewell and turned to make a retreat themselves, most likely to sneak around Michelle as they pulled out packs of cigarettes from their suit-pants pockets. 

Eggsy waved them off, and breathed in, chest puffing, back and shoulders straightening.

"Bit weird, innit,” he hummed after a moment when they were alone, watching leaves blow across the parking lot ahead of them. "Like being a guest at your own wedding. Not bad or anything like that, just sort of weird. I just go where they tell me, play 'repeat after me' for a bit, and drink champagne...  You know, when mum got married the second time, I brought the rings down. I was 6, I think? Apparently that's all I did, because in all the pictures she's shown me I was either sleeping or playing GameBoy. Guess I'm not really a wedding kinda guy," Eggsy smirked, then turned his gaze back to Harry, smiling at him.

Eggsy's good mood was a bit infectious and Harry found himself smiling despite the knot in his stomach (tension, nerves? He didn't know) that was still very much making its presence known. He wondered, briefly, if it was the knowledge that his boss was going to be there that was causing it. That would make the most sense, after all, given how this whole thing had come about as a result of his job. It couldn't have anything to do with the way Eggsy was smiling up at him, completely at ease with the whole situation despite how he had been treated. Could it? 

"Yes, well, that makes two of us," he said once it became apparent that he really should say something or the silence would turn awkward. "Weddings have mostly been rather dull affairs, obligations for co-workers or extended family, in my experience," he said dryly. "Not exactly the most exciting of affairs. Perhaps this one will be a little more interesting." He offered Eggsy a small smile in return. 

Eggsy smiled again, chuckling lightly as he nodded. "I'm sure we can make it fun, after the ceremony maybe. Appease mum and all, but it's our show, innit?" He leaned a bit toward him, enough to nudge playfully.

Honestly, he really was in a good mood, and he couldn't explain why on earth he would be. All things considered, Eggsy should be crabby, disinterested, short tempered. But he couldn't bring himself to be. "I'll behave when I meet your people. But I'm planning on having fun, and that includes drinkin and dancin," he grinned.

Harry's eyebrows twitched up slightly at that, and he found himself laughing as well. "You might catch me drinking, but dancing, I'm afraid, I'm not as practiced with," he admitted. He wasn't terrible at it by any means, but he'd never found himself dancing with a partner he particularly liked. They had mostly been women who'd had a little too much to drink to be either coordinated or good conversation partners. "And don't worry about your behavior amongst my colleagues. I might actually score some sympathy points if they think you're an absolute terror." 

"Oh, well in that case I'll terrorize it up. Throw in a 'You bet, guv,' instead of 'I do,' how's that?" Clearly, he was teasing, but it was a bit of a relief to know he didn't have to be “top of his behaviour” Eggsy for the entirety of it. He didn't like changing himself all that much. And he doubted he could keep it up once he started drinking either. 

Harry could only imagine the kinds of looks they would get if Eggsy actually replaced the 'I do' with anything else. It would almost be worth it, he thought, and it would do quite a bit to make the wedding more interesting. But in a way, he didn't want to ruin anything. Eggsy seemed to be somewhat enjoying himself and he wanted that to continue. 

"I don't think you have a choice when it comes to dancing,” Eggsy continued. “Ain't that one of those 'traditional' things people'll be expecting? You'll have to dance with me once. Though, and I don't mean to brag, I'm a pretty good dancer." Eggsy nodded, still playful, with a grin teasing the edges of his lips. "Pretty sure I can carry you in the dance moves department. Give me one dance and maybe you'll keep going, eh?" 

Honestly, Eggsy wasn't the greatest at dancing, but anything could look and feel good if one was having fun, he reasoned. And damn it, come hell or high water, he was having fun tonight.

"I suppose if I must, I must," Harry sighed, resigning himself to the inevitability of the first dance. "Although it would help if I knew what song we were going to be dancing to," he went on, glancing over in Michelle's direction. Many of the finer wedding details were going to be surprises to him, considering he'd been burying himself in his work instead of reviewing any of the plans she'd sent him.

"Oh, I picked that one." Eggsy raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised. Whoops. Apparently he had forgotten to send Harry a text confirming the choice. Well. What was done was done. "It's gonna be Sweet Caroline. The Sinatra cover, actually." He shrugged, realizing that it had been a rather bold choice, done without checking with Harry. Honestly though, he didn't think Harry would mind either way what he picked, as he seemed content to let Michelle pick all the rest. And Eggsy had a weakness for swing now and again, sue him. 

At least it was a song Harry knew. He ran through the tune in his head quickly. He could work with it. "You're a fan of Sinatra?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral instead of surprised. He figured that could be misconstrued and he didn't want to upset Eggsy like that on their wedding day of all days.

"You heard the man sing?" Eggsy sniggered, shrugging his shoulders. He got why that could be a surprise; he was very aware of the impression he gave off, and while he did love loud, bass pulsing music, he liked the classics too.

Michelle had played Sinatra's Christmas songs when he was growing up, playing in the background while they made Christmas cookies and hung ornaments. Maybe in a weird way it felt like home. That was why he bought more CDs originally, and probably why he still had a soft spot for that smooth voice singing to him from the ‘40s. Maybe one day Eggsy would share stories like that with Harry. For now, he could skate by with a grin and a shrug. "I got a weak spot for swing."

Harry nodded sagely as if he'd been expecting nothing less. "Be that as it may, I certainly hope you're not expecting our first dance to be a swing. I might be a halfway decent dancer, but I'm nowhere near good enough for that sort of thing," Harry said blithely.

"Oh did you not get the choreography I sent?" Eggsy asked, and for all the world he looked serious. "It’s very complex steps. If you fuck up, we both fall. Probably injured. No pressure," he said with a charming smile.

"Cheek," Harry muttered, knowing very well there was no choreography. At least, he fervently hoped not. Maybe he should have looked over the notes Michelle had sent him after all. "You'll just have to make do with what you've got, and what you've got is an unathletic pencil-pusher." 

"I think I can work with that," Eggsy laughed, rubbing at his chin absently as he did. Maybe once the dance music started he would dance up on him as he was used to, grinding and swaying and close-pressed, carefree. They'd be married and everything, why not? He'd kind of like to see what Harry would do, if he'd shove him away or let him do it or try and dance with him. An interesting experiment. Besides, Harry said he'd mostly be working and they wouldn't be seeing each other much. Maybe it would be Eggsy’s only chance to try. 

Eggsy's laugh was just as infectious as his good mood, and Harry found the knot of nerves that had been sitting in his gut slowly dissolving. He was beginning to feel a little more relaxed about the whole affair. 

This was the best they had gotten along so far, and Eggsy was pretty pleased about it. This was the best time for it, really. Still smiling, happy, he checked his phone for the time. "Alright, you better get in there and let her fuss over you. Shouldn't be long till people start really arriving, then we can get this strange show on the road, eh?"

Harry sighed dramatically, squaring his shoulders and straightening up smartly. "I'll see you at the altar," he promised, consigning himself to his fate. Without another word, he marched forward, into the mouth of the church, heading for Michelle. 

As Harry walked away, Eggsy's smile slipped. "I'll see you at the altar.' Weird as it was, that was probably the first time he'd felt a touch of nerves or anxiety about any of this. Not dressing up, not taking photos with his mum, not helping to decorate or set up. 'See you at the altar.' He reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out an e-cig, stepping off to the side of the building to find his friends again and try to puff the nerves away with blueberry-flavored smoke.

Michelle, still looking quite dressy even with her frazzled hair, stood halfway down the aisle, staring intently at the front to be certain the flowers she had arranged were sitting properly. Daisy sat in one of the rows nearby, pulling at her little dress while she played with Michelle's phone.

"You've done quite a job with this place," Harry announced as he approached, glancing around appreciatively.

Hearing Harry’s voice, she turned around, needing a moment to actually process. "Oh, Harry, you're here!" She smiled, striding up to meet him halfway. "Perfect, I was just wondering when you would get here,” she beamed, looking him up and down. "You look wonderful." She looked pleased, as that was one less thing she had to worry about -- Eggsy's tie had taken a solid 5 minutes until she was happy. Nevertheless, she couldn't stop herself from trying to flatten his already flat lapels and patting at his shoulders. 

"Since there's no bouquet, for obvious reasons, you're going to have a flower on,” Michelle said, still making little adjustments. “You'll be getting white. I think Eggsy already has his red -- does he? I'll have to text him, no idea where he got off to, where's my phone?” She barely paused to look before rattling on. “And I think that takes care of you, Harry, nothing terrible to worry about..." And then, as though what he had said as soon as he walked in only now clicked, she said, after a pause for breath, "...And thank you, been running around all day. Glad it's coming together." Breathless and flipping hair over her shoulder, she still beamed, exhausted, but happy about the trouble.

Allowing himself to be fussed over was the least Harry could do. The woman truly looked exhausted, and the day hadn't even really started yet. "I would like to apologize for putting all this on you," he said, clearing his throat and jumping in when she paused to take a breath. "It wasn't fair of me, but you have certainly risen to the occasion." He took another look around the place, marveling at how much she'd managed to do with so little; he  _ had _ studied the costs, if nothing else.

"Oh, don't apologize." Michelle smiled again, stepping back and pushing a few stray hairs out of her eyes. "I've been making plans for my Eggsy's wedding for years. For awhile I thought I'd have to shelve it, start over with Daisy..." 

She shook her head, turning back to look at the church with a sort of wistful fondness. That was part of why she threw herself so far into it; some part of her was just happy Eggsy was getting married at all. With the poor impression of it she had given him, mothering Eggsy, and even Harry to an extent, over it was the least she could do. 

"Happy to do it all. May have gone a bit overboard," Michelle added with a light laugh. It was a fairly small wedding after all, but she couldn't resist.

Harry's brow furrowed a bit, and he looked back at where he'd left Eggsy only to find him gone. "It doesn't seem," he started off slowly, almost hesitantly, "that Eggsy should have had any trouble finding a partner. He hasn't done anything that could really be considered undesirable. In my eyes, anyway," he added. And it was true; Eggsy seemed like he would make a fine match, but Harry supposed he still didn't know him all that well. Perhaps something would come up in the next few weeks that would tell Harry just what he was  in for. "And I wouldn't say it's overboard. If you'd seen some of the weddings I had, you would think this was rather more understated," he said after a bit of a pause, wanting to reassure her.  

Michelle smiled vaguely. Obviously Harry wasn't about to change his mind, so she didn't need to leap to his defense, but that was Eggsy's business. She didn't want to explain on his behalf if that wasn't something he wanted shared. Besides, she figured Harry and Eggsy would have plenty of time after today to talk or not talk as they saw fit.

"That's good to know," she laughed instead, fiddling with her necklace. "I've read through large scale weddings in magazines, they sound wonderful." She sighed, remembering the fantasies she'd had as a small girl: outdoor weddings with large flower arches and ribbons winding around pillars. She had never honestly hoped for it, but she had still snuck some aspects of it into her son's, as evidenced by the red and white cloths winding around small support poles here and there. "I can't wait, actually. I'll end up crying," she added with another small laugh, knowing full well that, though it might not be a marriage of love, she would still be sniffly and fussy. What else were mothers for?

"They're not as exciting as one imagines," Harry lamented, repressing his usual habit of running a hand through his hair. It would only muss up the careful styling and, he was half-convinced, give Michelle a heart attack. She'd already fixed his perfect lapels; he shuddered to think how she might go after an actual issue, especially when it was attached to his head. "Mostly socializing with people you neither know nor like and listening to the plans of people much more exciting than you are." 

"Oh, I'd still do it for a day, I think. That ain't much different than here, honestly. I've had to invite people I don't really like much in the name of politeness. But the pomp and circumstance is worth the headache." 

As Michelle finished speaking, Daisy reappeared, running up the aisle towards her mother. Her little red, sparkling dress was so long, it nearly caught her feet as she came to a stop at Michelle's ankles, tugging on the hem of her skirt with her thumb firmly in her mouth. 

Michelle scooped her up into her arms, held her at her hip, and fixed her dress and hair where it tried to rebel. She then pried her phone out of Daisy's hand, and checked the time through the many finger prints. "Oh, bugger," she hissed, flicking the phone unlocked and tapping at the screen rather violently. "I'm sorry, Harry, I've got to make a call. The photographer is 15 bloody minutes late already. I'll kill that man if he throws my schedule off..." she mumbled almost to herself, side-stepping Harry and heading for the mouth of the church. She turned around and walked backwards after only a few paces, calling back, “White flower should be over by the ring and flower girl set up, to the right there, yeah?” even as she held the phone to her ear.

Harry took half a step back as Daisy suddenly appeared, clamoring at Michelle. He watched as she was lifted into her mother's arms and gave her a bit of a wave, as adults always seemed to be expected to do when dealing with children. If he ever wanted any of his own, which he was still convinced he wouldn't, he was going to have to get better at dealing with them. But that was a bridge for the distant future that he might not even have to cross, so he tried not to think about it too much. 

Then Michelle was off, striding backwards down the aisle and mouthing instructions. Harry nodded once to show he understood and headed over in the direction she'd indicated. He found the white flower and plucked it up. Carefully, not wanting to crush any of the petals, he affixed it to the front of his suit, picking up its red companion that Eggsy apparently hadn't gotten already. Best to get it to him before Michelle found out, he figured. He exited the church a few paces behind her, glancing around for his fiancé. 

Eggsy hadn't gotten far. Just on the other side of the building, he stood with his back to the cold brick of the church's exterior, head tilted up to the sky as he breathed. The e-cig was still in his hand; he had been taking a puff on it every few minutes since he had left Harry. The air still had the vague scent of blueberries.

"Back in my day, our cigarette smoke only came in one flavor," Harry commented wryly, coming across both Eggsy and the smell of blueberries. He wandered closer to him, inhaling and crinkling his nose. "And I think I preferred it that way. Anyway. I believe your mother wanted you to wear this," he said, offering Eggsy the red flower. 

At the approach, Eggsy cracked an eye open and turned his head, looking at Harry with a faint smirk on his lips. "You ain't that old, don't say 'back in my day.' But you must’ve been missing out, quitting is way easier when you got flavours." 

Nevertheless, Eggsy pocketed the e-cig as he straightened up again, pulling a face as he reached to take the flower. "Ah, fuck," he sighed, turning it over in his hands as he looked for how on earth he was going to affix it to his coat. "Thanks for this, she would’ve gone mental if I'd forgotten, and I only got so many lives left." 

Finding the small hole and getting it to work was proving a task for him. Eggsy twisted his head and his coat this way and that trying to get the stem to cooperate and actually stay. "Fucking-"

Harry only rolled his eyes at the “not that old” (he was plenty old enough to have a back in his day, thank you very much), choosing to let that little argument lie. Reminding Eggsy just how old he really was on their wedding day wasn't his idea of a good time. 

His lips quirked up slightly in amusement as the younger man struggled with the flower, first in finding a way to attach it, and then actually following through on the action. "Here," he said, after a moment of watching Eggsy try to get it on in vain. "There's a bit of a trick to it." He pulled Eggsy's jacket out enough to get a hold on it, threading the stem through and looping it back so it hooked in on itself. 

Eggsy huffed when Harry hooked it on so easily, more putting on a pout than truly sulking. The facade didn't last long. He grinned when Harry pulled back, looking at the newly affixed boutonniere and appreciating that he would have taken another few minutes to get it together. "Thanks," he snickered, puffing his chest to get a look at it. "Dunno why she's having us wear these. Must've been because she thinks it's funny to watch me struggle."

Harry didn't respond right away, taking a moment to appreciate his handiwork and make sure it wouldn't fall off the next time Eggsy took a step. When he did, it was with a small smile and a bit of a laugh. "The reason  _ she  _ cited was the lack of a bouquet, though I suppose your suggestion is just as plausible. It was rather amusing." 

"Oi, don't join in on her side." Eggsy huffed again, though the smirk still tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You both like watching me struggle, I'll never catch a break."

Harry shook his head slowly. "No, no, don't worry. I'll take it when I can get it, but I won't create opportunities to embarrass you." A hint of mischief glittered in his eyes as he continued, "Besides. I'm sure you'll make enough of those on your own." 

Honestly, Eggsy liked seeing that 'something' behind Harry’s eyes. It was reassuring that now he was at least showing some personality. This time he couldn't help his grin, snickering as he answered. "Part of me wants to be offended, but you're right, I'm sure I will. When you don’t embarrass easily it's called 'charm', right?"

Harry snorted. "I suppose that's one word for it," he mused. "I'm assuming that means you consider yourself quite charming, then." 

"Few dozen can't be wrong, aye?" Eggsy grinned in return. 

Harry found himself staring at Eggsy's mouth, still stretched into a grin as it had been for most of their conversation. He really was impressively resilient, given his circumstances. "May I kiss you?" he asked suddenly, not even entirely sure he meant to ask it. 

Whatever Eggsy had been expecting as a response, it wasn't that. It threw him for a moment, and he blinked, the smile falling a bit in his surprise. There was the initial surprise of being asked in general, politely at that, if he could be kissed. Usually people just did it, and he either encouraged it or pushed them away, there was no discussion. Then of course, Harry here was his fiancé. They were getting married in a span of a few hours now, and it just dawned on him that no, they hadn't kissed before. So hey, why not? It was probably good to cross that bridge before the altar, anyway. And honestly, he wasn't going to turn down a kiss.

This passed in just a second or two, before Eggsy was smirking instead, nodding to give his permission. Still a strange concept.

For a second Eggsy didn't react, and Harry thought he might have made a mistake. Perhaps Eggsy didn't like the sort of people who asked instead of just took, but it would have seemed uncommonly rude to just lean forward and do it. But he didn't exactly want to leave it until they were standing in front of a few dozen people either, especially not when he'd never even touched Eggsy before, not intimately. A few brushes of fingers, maybe, but not much more than that. 

Then Eggsy was nodding, and Harry let out an internal sigh of relief. He lifted his hand to cup Eggsy's cheek, just looking down at him for a second. Harry really was getting the better end of this deal, he thought, not for the first time. 

And he bent down and pressed their lips together, just briefly, a chaste kiss like the one they would be expected to share during the ceremony, before he straightened up again and let his hand fall away. 

Instinctively, Eggsy let his eyes slide closed as Harry leaned in, letting his head tilt upwards just enough to meet his lips. And then it was over, just a brush of their lips together for a hanging second before Harry pulled back and dropped his hand. Eggsy blinked again. That was it? 

"Them the kinda kisses I can expect from a married man?" Eggsy teased lightly, his smirk back and playing at the corners of his lips. Because honestly, he'd been expecting a bit more than that, even from the straight-laced Harry.

Harry's brow furrowed, a bit taken aback by the question. He hadn't been expecting Eggsy to be  _ disappointed _ with a short kiss, and his mouth opened, even though he didn't have anything to say. After a heartbeat, he closed it again, clearing his throat and giving his head one, small shake. "Do you really think it would be wise to snog the daylights out of you when we have to be presentable? Michelle would have words if we crushed the flowers or mussed something else up," Harry pointed out.

"That ain't talking me out of it," Eggsy laughed, envisioning the confrontation with his mother that would arise out of that. It would probably be well worth it, actually, him showing up twenty minutes before his wedding with his hair rumpled, flower crushed, lips pinkened. He almost laughed again just envisioning her spluttering and frantic fixing. 

But Eggsy shrugged, tilting his head to one side. "If you don't want to, that's fine." Raincheck then. Maybe after their dance. It was sort of becoming a competition with himself at this point, winning Harry over into liking him properly. If he was going to be married to him, he'd want to take advantage of the perks whenever he could.

Eggsy was, as Harry was continually rediscovering, a strange man in some areas. At least it wasn't the other way around. He didn't know if he could stand it if Eggsy went to great lengths to avoid Harry touching him at all, but still he wasn't entirely sure why he didn't seem averse to kissing him. 

"I never said I didn't want to," Harry pointed out, taking half a step closer, eyes narrowing. "Only that it wouldn't be wise." 

"It'll be on you to make that call, if you want to be responsible." Eggsy mirrored Harry's body language, taking a half step himself. "But I'm kind of stressed out about all this, and a good snog always helps." His eyes wandered to Harry's lips, willing them closer, his curiosity now getting the best of him, moreso than logic which was agreeing with Harry's sentiment. But fuck logic, he wanted a proper kiss.

"Passing blame isn't an attractive quality, Eggsy," Harry muttered, tone stern with disapproval. The curious spark in his eyes was at odds with his words, however, and he placed two of his fingers under Eggsy's chin, tilting his head back. "Perhaps it would only be what you deserved if I left you stressed," he mused. 

Eggsy only smirked, completely undeterred by the vague scolding. He had a feeling it was an empty threat, and he was still young enough that withholding something he wanted only made him want it more. "You wouldn't be so rude to me," he smirked, leaning forward while letting Harry’s fingers guide his chin. " _ Fiancé. _ "

One of Harry's eyebrows twitched upwards, and his mouth curled into a wry smile. "Oh, you don't think so?" he asked rhetorically. Then, sighing as if disappointed in himself, he added, "Well, perhaps you're right. My days in customer service must have made me soft."

He leaned back down to kiss Eggsy, longer this time, his eyes sliding closed and the hand that didn’t have a hold on Eggsy’s chin sliding around to the back of his neck.

Harry kissed him, and Eggsy felt a small tug of victory in the back of his mind. He hadn't actually thought it would be that difficult, but it still made him feel quite pleased. Once again his eyes closed when Harry leaned in, and his lips pressed back against his, in what was for him an easy kind of kissing. One of his hands lifted to touch Harry's waist, something of a bold move on his part since he couldn’t remember touching Harry at all outside the playful shove from earlier and their initial handshake. His fingers curled into the fabric of Harry’s suit gently, just enough to convey a tugging. Eager for more, his lips parted just enough for his tongue to peek out and graze Harry's lips, just as his fingers tugged.

Harry felt Eggsy's hand settle on his waist, the heat from his palm slowly seeping through the jacket of his suit and the thin shirt underneath. That was fine, that was expected, but what he hadn't counted on was the little, insistent tug that came with it. And the tongue that came along with  _ that _ , swiping over his bottom lip and making it clear that Eggsy fully intended on going through with their little plan to wreck him. With a slight sigh, he broke the kiss, moving back just far enough to do so. "Michelle really will kill us, Eggsy," he muttered. 

Eggsy grinned at him, not dropping his hand from his waist. He wasn't in the mood to be responsible. "We can fix up, be careful," he hummed, coaxing. "Mum'll live." Tug. Though if Harry seriously pulled back, he'd let it drop; he was enjoying a bit of fun, and he wouldn't be difficult if no really was a no.

Harry hovered between being the responsible person he knew he  _ should _ be and the 'fuck it, why not?' person he wanted to be. Today, he eventually decided, was a day for saying fuck it. He brought them back together, the hand that had been under his chin moving to slide up Eggsy’s back and keep him close. To hell with it. 

Eggsy was only too happy to kiss Harry again, his other hand grabbing at his waist as well. He tugged on his coat, happily this time rather than gently coaxing. 

Now that Eggsy had gotten what he wanted, he calmed his advances somewhat, letting Harry decide how much of his own rule he wanted to break. If Harry wanted them to remain presentable, Eggsy should not be in charge. Were he to get proper permission, he would love to take this posh, well-dressed man and completely wreck him, in large part for the satisfaction, mother be damned.

Sticking to his new conclusion, and deciding they might as well have some fun with it if they were going to have to clean up anyways, it was Harry's tongue this time that flicked past his lips to trace over Eggsy's. There was only so far he was going to allow this to get -- this was the first time in many, many years that he'd kissed someone like this -- but they could be push it a little more. 

Third time was apparently the charm. As soon as Eggsy felt the gentle press of Harry’s tongue against his lips, he grinned internally all the more, his own tongue once again peeking out. As antsy for it as he had been, his kiss was hardly ravenous or even needy; he’d done quite a good share of kissing, up until fairly recently even, and he wasn’t in any real need for it. But he’d found it was a good way of becoming more acquainted, odd as it sounded. So it was a lazy hello as his tongue played with Harry’s, hands sliding along the fabric to lock around his waist.

There it was, the taste Harry had been looking for. A bit tinged with blueberry, maybe, but the smoky taste of a cigarette lingered on Eggsy's tongue, just as Harry had suspected it would. In his experience, tobacco kisses always tasted better than any other kisses. He sighed slightly into Eggsy's mouth, not even meaning to, just overly appreciative of the heady flavor.

Eggsy would have been most content to kiss like this for quite some time. He did love kisses at the best of times, and, given Harry’s wrinkling of his nose when he smelled Eggsy’s smoke, he had expected a pull back, maybe a ‘we can try again after you taste better’ or the like. He’d even planned to hide his e-cig from Harry on the assumption that he’d make a fuss over it. But judging by the way Harry hadn’t pulled away, even the contented sigh, he seemed fine with it. Bonus. Their lips unmelded just a bit as Eggsy couldn’t keep the twitching of the corners of his lips repressed.

Harry took their slight separation as an indication to stop. Perhaps the sigh had been taking it a bit too far. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he retracted his hands, letting them fall back to his sides instead of raking them through his still-mostly-styled hair. Yes, apparently, that had been cause for embarrassment, if the way Eggsy was smiling was any indication. "I apologize," he muttered. "It's been... a while." 

When Harry pulled back and dropped his hands, Eggsy did as well, withdrawing and shoving one of his hands into his pocket. He was a little thrown off by the abrupt pull away, and even moreso by the awkward throat clearing and apology. He blinked, confused. "Why're you apologizing? You kiss better than some other people I know, not jamming your tongue down my throat and all." Eggsy kept up a small smile, attempting to reassure for... whatever Harry had felt the need to apologize for.

"I thought... Well, it doesn't matter what I thought, I was obviously wrong. Apology rescinded, then," Harry said with a slight smile. He busied himself with straightening himself back up, tugging on the jacket to get it to lie right again and adjusting the flower which had gotten only the slightest bit crushed. 

"Yeah, no apologies around here," Eggsy snickered. He made no move to straighten himself out; he'd only gotten ruffled a small bit, a few hairs askew and in his face, flower off-center, jacket not quite perfect from where Harry's hand had slid up the back of it, and he liked it better that way. Felt more “him” anyway. It was unlikely his mother would suspect anything other than him being fidgety, which was probably normal on a wedding day, right?

Harry lingered, knowing that neither of them were much use hiding behind the church, but not wanting to leave either. He would be getting his fill of the wedding in just over an hour, and he wanted to appreciate the time he had left to just relax. He'd lived a long time without anyone, after all, and now he only had a little longer for that to still hold true. 

As the silence fell, Eggsy's smile dropped. He wasn't ready to go out there yet either. He would have to soon enough, to welcome people, shake hands with the ones his mother had invited, keep an eye out for Dean's inevitable arrival and attempt to keep him from being too much of an arse about the whole thing. And that all sounded tiring, really. At least he'd had a reprieve for a bit. And he could probably avoid it for a little bit longer. 

The impact of it all hit him again, and his fingers itched to get out his e-cig stick again.

As if sensing something wasn't quite right with Eggsy, Harry leaned up against the wall of the church, crossing one leg over the other and tilting his head back until he was looking more up at the sky than the man in front of him. "What's bothering you?"

Eggsy almost smiled. Put a cigarette in his hands, and that was just about how Harry found him. Instead he shrugged, going back to leaning against the wall himself. "A lot, to be honest," he hummed, voice nonchalant even as his fingers literally twitched in his pockets. "... You didn’t happen to see Dean when you were with mum, did you?"

Harry's eyes slid over to one side until he could see Eggsy properly, and he slowly shook his head. "I had him pegged as the kind of man who showed up late to weddings, not early," he mused.

Eggsy nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought." But when you put your guard down, that was when he stumbled in and you got slapped out of nowhere. So Eggsy would rather be on high alert for no reason, even if it did stress him out further. 

He looked at the grass, face flat in contrast to the happy grin he'd been sporting most of the morning, his eyes narrowed as he thought.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry reached out to briefly rest his hand on Eggsy's shoulder. "He's not done anything more to you, I trust," he said gravely.

"Nah, nah it's fine." Eggsy gave him a light smile, trying to regain some of his earlier life and humour.

Harry snorted in quiet disbelief. "I would hardly say it's fine," he said mildly, letting his hand fall back to his side anyways. The way Eggsy's face had shut down left him with little doubt about that.

Eggsy just smiled again. He hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of it or indeed even really mention his anxiety over Dean whatsoever, least of all to Harry. Besides, as he now remembered, Dean and Harry had had some sort of... thing, that had made Harry cut him off and Dean “warn” Eggsy about Harry's bad side. So even if he and Harry were at a place where they could talk about stuff like that -- which they weren't -- he would keep his own things under wraps until Harry told him his. 

"...Do you smoke?" Eggsy asked seemingly abruptly, face a blank sort of curious as he looked at him.

Sighing at the sudden switch in topic, Harry decided it was best to just let it drop. They would have plenty of time to discuss things as time wore on and Eggsy got further and further away from Dean and whatever he'd done to him. "I used to. But I gave it up. It was strongly discouraged in the office, and I figured I was going to die early enough without inhaling tar. It was the worst decision I've ever made."

Eggsy’s shoulders shook slightly in a silent, appreciative chuckle. "Wondered why you was fine kissing me with the taste. You really have done a lot for this job, ain't you." 

Eggsy couldn't fathom going to any of these lengths for a job, no matter how lucrative. Quit smoking, get married -- although that was a stigma everywhere he supposed --  and who knew what else. He personally would have only done one of those things. Maybe. 

Harry shrugged. "I saw the extraneous benefits and figured they would be worth it. You did taste quite good, though, I'll give you that," he said, sighing wistfully and trying to pull the nicotine flavor back to mind. 

Eggsy grinned, wiggling a bit against the wall as he looked at him. "Well, guess that'll be something to look forward to at times, eh?" When Harry was there. If Harry was there. If Harry wanted to kiss him. If and when all those stars aligned in the uncertain future.

Harry side-eyed him for a moment before nodding slowly. "Yes, I suppose there is that," he said. Hopefully there would be more than that, but they would have to find out as they went along. Or, he supposed, it could turn out that he might be denied even that if Eggsy decided to stop kissing him at any point. Marriage was proving to be a mess of hypotheticals so far.

Eggsy sighed and pushed himself back off the wall. "I'm gonna get back, I think. I'll cover for you if you want to avoid it for a bit longer." He didn't know what was wrong with him at this point, or rather, didn't know which of the many things that were wrong with him was the one that was currently making him moody. He didn't like it, especially when he had been doing so well thus far that day, all things considered. 

Rather liking it where he was and still wanting to hold onto the calm before the storm while he could, Harry just nodded, letting his eyes fall closed. "Yes, thank you, Eggsy. I would very much appreciate that." 

When Harry's eyes closed, Eggsy hovered, looking at him for a few extra seconds. As he did, he felt a distinct tightening in his chest, a weird flipping in his stomach. Nerves he understood, recognizing that one was easy. But the rest was just as jumbled as he was. 

After realizing he was still just standing there, he turned and walked off again, rubbing at his forehead. Maybe he should check on Daisy. She would definitely make him smile. He needed that.

Harry didn't truly relax until he felt Eggsy move away. He cracked open one eye to watch his retreating figure get further and further away and wished desperately for a cigarette. Quitting really had been the worst idea he'd had in a long time, he mused, staring back up at the sky. Sometimes there just wasn't anything like nicotine to calm you down.


	4. A Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long one this time!

The next time Eggsy saw Harry was at the altar. 

He spent the time before the actual ceremony regaining his calm. He welcomed in the family he hadn't seen for years like it had only been a few months, shaking hands and bumping fists and enduring sloppy cheek kisses. He held Daisy in his arms like she was his, fixing her hair and thanking her for being such a good girl. 

Michelle had been stressed enough for three, so Eggsy was happy to let her handle what she wanted, chatting with Jamal and Ryan all the way up until it was time to take their places. 

For the sake of symbolism, it had been Eggsy walked down the aisle, since  _ someone _ had to be, his mother on his arm. The point of it was to be given away, after all, and that was certainly much more literal in their case anyway. While he wasn't brimming with happiness and love as one should be on their wedding day, seeing his mother and sister so happy was enough to make Eggsy smile. He even winked at Harry as he took his place beside him. 

The ceremony itself was fairly uneventful. It proceeded as it should, with the couple themselves saying very little, and repeating after the officiant when it came time for vows. When it came to the 'I do's, Eggsy paused, letting one beat of silence pass wherein he just gave Harry a look. A look not of cold feet, or hesitation, but of an inside joke. But he responded loud and clear, 'I do,' just as he was supposed to. They were pronounced as husband and husband, and Eggsy leaned in to kiss Harry briefly and chastely. 

There was applause, Eggsy waved to his family members, and Daisy insisted on following and holding his hand as they walked back out of the church. 

Eggsy turned to Harry, grinning and intending on saying something, anything, about what had just happened, but no, he was immediately overtaken by well-wishers. It seemed only some of the guests invited on his side were aware that this was an arranged marriage, and hell if Eggsy was going to correct them. The venue for reception wasn't far, just a short walk across the street, so Eggsy shouted, “I'll see you there, yeah?” as he was swept away, pulled along with his mother and sister hanging off of him.

It wasn't until they got there and his mother got to fuss over the seating that Eggsy even had a moment to spare. Guests made their way over in twos and threes, and Eggsy grinned at them accordingly, but avoided conversation. He wanted to have at least a word with the man that was now his actual husband, providing they signed the document, which they would do shortly, before anything else. 

-

When most people looked back on their weddings days, Harry knew, they remembered it. He wasn't entirely sure he'd remember his. Most of it went by in a blur, and only the highlights stuck out, the majority of faces and words of greeting and congratulations all blending into one. The first glimpse of Eggsy walking down the aisle stuck in his mind, as did the slight hesitation before his 'I do' and the kiss they shared afterwards, not nearly as satisfying as their earlier one. Other than that, however, it was strikingly similar to all the other weddings he'd attended, only worse, because now he was the center of attention. 

And he couldn't even talk to Eggsy about it as the universe seemed ironically determined to keep them apart despite forcing them together in the first place. Harry wasn't even sure what he wanted to say, but it seemed only appropriate to say  _ something _ . Add to that the fact that Eggsy seemed genuinely happy and Harry found himself actually disappointed when his husband was surrounded by fawning family members and spirited away. 

For his part, Harry nodded polite greetings to his own guests as they approached him, exchanging a few typical pleasantries before falling in with them to cross over to the reception area. As soon as they'd crossed the road, he excused himself, glancing around for Eggsy to see if he'd been released. 

With Michelle making last minute adjustments here and there to the tables and holding onto a now grumpy Daisy, Eggsy had indeed managed to sneak away. Naturally, he had migrated to the champagne, taking a celebratory glass and leaning against the corner end of the head table where he and Harry were meant to sit. A happy grin spread over his face. He, for one, had no problem being the center of attention, especially when it was for a good reason. He was once again as happy and relaxed as though it were someone else's wedding. 

Eggsy glanced up whenever a group of people entered, usually with a nod or a wave if he knew who it was. 

When Harry stepped in, he straightened up, smiling, and jerked his head in invitation to come join him.

Movement over by the head table caught Harry's eye. He glanced over to find Eggsy, who already had a glass of champagne in his hand, straightening up. He'd already taken a step or two in Eggsy’s direction before he beckoned Harry over, and it was nice to think that he hadn't been alone in his desire to talk. 

It took Harry far longer than he would have liked to walk the length of the room, being constantly stopped by members of Eggsy's family, to congratulate him and express how happy they were. Harry supposed they were his family now too, by extension. 

Eventually, however, he reached Eggsy. "There are a few members of your family who looked as if they wanted to shave a decade or two off me," he muttered, eyes flicking about the room instead of looking at Eggsy. "I suppose I should get used to that." 

Knowing his family, that wasn't hard to believe. Eggsy was sure to be a topic of gossip in certain circles for a while, both negative and positive. Good thing Eggsy didn't give a shit. 

He snickered, grinning directly up at Harry's face, his gaze locked on -- and appreciating -- the brown of his eyes. "Doubt you'll have to. First time I've seen a lot of these people in fucking years. Won't get it from them. Least you ain't getting your cheek kissed by Great Aunt Something-Or-Other."

"I'm sure the kisses you’ve had to endure are better than the small talk I've been forced to partake in with my coworkers. Dull, the lot of them," Harry muttered, casting a longing look over at the table hosting the champagne. He needed to get drunk. Preferably soused. That's what people did at weddings anyways, right? 

Sighing, he turned to look back at Eggsy, surprised to find him staring at him. "Something interesting?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. 

Eggsy bit back another snicker at his casual comment. He really didn't understand why Harry apparently loved and cared so much for his job, but simultaneously wasn't fond of his coworkers, was aware the job was somewhat boring, and yet did things that Eggsy wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole in the name of keeping it. Maybe he'd understand as he got to know him. Or maybe he was bonkers. Either way. 

When Harry looked at him again, he smirked, not allowing himself to feel embarrassed over being caught staring. "Your eyes are brown," he answered truthfully. "It’s like... melted chocolate, or mahogany." Eggsy looked away again and shrugged one shoulder as he brought his glass up to his lips, taking a drink and nearly draining the glass. "Hadn't noticed is all."

Harry couldn't help the tiny amused smile that slipped onto his face. Eggsy, it seemed, was not the most observant of people. "Yes, my eyes are brown. Normally considered the least interesting of eye colors," he said, shrugging. He'd never paid much attention to what his eyes might resemble, melted chocolate or otherwise.

Really, Eggsy was usually pretty observant. It wasn't as though he never noticed Harry's eyes  _ ever  _ \-- he just didn't care enough to remember. But he noticed them now. And he quite liked them. He said as much with another faint snicker, amused at himself and without even the fallback excuse of 'I've been drinking.' Perhaps he should make that a more viable excuse and get himself some more champagne. He was of the same opinion as Harry, after all. He had every intention of getting drunk.

"Before you go and get another drink..." Harry said, pushing himself away from the table and taking a step closer to Eggsy. He captured his chin in his hand, tilting his face up so he could see it clearly, his eyes narrowing as they drank him in. Eggsy's eyes weren't quite as easy to describe as his own, green-blue flecked here and there with an almost golden brown. "A coral reef," he finally decided, releasing his hold on him. 

Eggsy’s heart actually stuttered as Harry grabbed his face and held him still. For a second there he had thought he was about to kiss him again, and while he wasn't averse to being kissed, he couldn't figure out why Harry would. And then he said “coral reef”, and Eggsy laughed, shaking his head when he was let go. "Ain't heard that before. Usually a lot of 'blueish greenish hazely?' And there ain't a lot that's those colours. You get points for accuracy and originality," he grinned, relaxed.

Harry nodded once. "Yes, well, they are rather blueish greenish hazely, aren't they? Now are you going to just stand there sober, or are you going to come get another drink with me?" he asked, already heading in the direction of the champagne and tossing the last few words over his shoulder.

The man made a compelling argument.

Eggsy trotted behind him to catch up, hands in his pockets as he followed Harry over to the table where he had procured his champagne. It was still a little early for the harder stuff to be brought out, or else he might have started with shots, but the champagne was good. Some even had little strawberries at the bottom because his mother sure did like little touches, but he managed to nick one without them. He was here for booze, not fruit. He replaced his now-empty glass on the table upside down and grabbed a fresh one instead.

Champagne wasn't usually to Harry's taste, he much preferred a good, stout Guinness, but he didn't know if that would even be available, and right now alcohol in any form was sounding good to him. He still had hours yet to endure the mindless small talk of wedding guests, and he wasn't getting through it on willpower alone. 

He did manage to sip at the champagne instead of tipping it all back in one go, but he didn't move far from the table, figuring he would only be making another trip back to it soon. "From your earlier comments about your family, I take it you aren't big on holiday celebrations," Harry commented lightly, glancing over at Eggsy. 

"Nah." Eggsy hummed his thought as his glass touched his lips, looking over at his mother. 

She seemed so happy, chatting with a relation of sorts he didn't know the name of. Dean still hadn't shown up. 

"Haven't done holidays proper in ... fuck, almost 20 years?" 17, 18 now or something since his last traditional Christmas. Not that they didn't do Christmas, but there weren't many decorations, if they had any at all, presents were a singular gift that was placed under a foot high tree on the kitchen table, and Eggsy spent most of them at a friend's place or on his PS3. And as for every other holiday, on Halloween he watched a scary movie with friends, and New Years usually saw him at a party. Even Guy Fawkes Day was usually just him hanging around a fire. He only ever saw his extended family for funerals, marriages, or plastered on a Christmas card that got thrown out. "But I ain't complaining, don't got a lot to say to them anyway." 

Harry took another sip of his champagne as Eggsy talked, eyes roving through the crowd. He was quite practiced at people watching, and he'd gotten fairly good at it over the years, able to assess the rough quality of a person just through the way they held themselves and the few snippets of conversation he managed to catch. 

Most of the people he'd seen in attendance were just as amusing as his coworkers -- that is to say, not very. "That’s a relief. I'm afraid my own holiday celebrations tend to be quite muted, and I was half worried you would be expecting something bigger." 

There was a bit of a commotion after that, glassware rattling as a body thumped into a table and a loud, raucous voice shouted out, "Hey, Muggsy! Where's the little shit, I've got to congratulate him!" 

Sighing, Harry closed his eyes and sent a quick prayer up for patience. Dean, it seemed, had arrived. And he was just as drunk as Harry wanted to be. 

Eggsy had been about to grin at Harry and make some joke, when the noise caught his attention. Delightful, just what he needed. 

Just the sound of Dean’s voice was enough to make Eggsy go from content and happy to making a face as though he had just decided to bite into a lemon. The smallest, most foolish part of him had been hoping he wouldn't show up at all. But he wasn't so lucky. 

"If I end up punching him, would that ruin today for you?" he asked Harry out of the side of his mouth, tossing back the rest of the champagne in a practiced motion.

Some of the guests pointed vaguely over in Harry and Eggsy's direction and Harry narrowed his eyes. He was going to remember that later. 

"Not in the least," he muttered back. "I daresay it would be the most interesting thing to happen today," he added, one side of his mouth quirking up in a wry smile. Harry didn't actually intend for anyone to get punched, of course, but if there was going to be one person that did, Dean was probably the best target. 

With stumbling steps, Dean made his way over to them, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder and leering at him. "You'll keep him in line, yeah?" he slurred, lolling his head to the side to grin open-mouthed at Eggsy. 

As Dean wandered closer, Eggsy's eyes narrowed, and his jaw set defensively. He didn't really expect things to get physical either, but he also was not looking forward to the inevitable shade and insults thrown his way. "He ain't a babysitter, Dean." Eggsy stood a little straighter in contrast to Dean's drunken slouching.

"Might as well be, wet as you are," Dean chuckled harshly, plucking a glass of champagne from the table and draining it one go. "Oi, that's shite! Where's the real stuff?" he asked, blinking blearily and glaring at Eggsy as if he blamed him for the lack of selection. 

It took everything Eggsy had not to roll his eyes. "Looks like you've already gotten into the real stuff, eh? Ours ain't coming out yet. This is for toasting and shit, not getting smashed." With the newlyweds themselves as the exception. They could start getting drunk as soon they wanted, as far as Eggsy was concerned. He was pretty sure Harry would agree with him. 

Dean's look of belligerence grew darker. "You trying to tell me what to do, Muggsy, huh? I can drink whatever the fuck I want!" he snapped, advancing forward a step. 

"You could," Harry stated, "if what you wanted was available. But, as Eggsy rightly pointed out, it isn't."

This was exactly what this wedding needed. 

Michelle, Eggsy could see over one of Dean's slouching shoulders, was in conversation with someone (who was that? his third cousin?) and wasn't about to come to the rescue. "Just go sit down, yeah? With mum or whoever you brought to crash here, I don't care. I'm sure you'll know right when the good stuff is brought out." He wasn't playing the 'ignore him until he goes away' game he so often did at home when Dean showed signs of impending verbal aggression, not tonight. 

Dean swung his head back and forth, glaring in between Harry and Eggsy. He looked like he wanted to say something vicious, but the only thing that ended up coming out was a muttered, "Better know the minute it’s out, yeah?" Then he wandered over to Michelle, squeezing her arse by way of greeting. 

Harry's lip curled in distaste at the display, but he buried any comments he might have made in his champagne glass.

As soon as he was gone, Eggsy deflated a bit, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Honestly, that was pretty tame. He must be on good behaviour today. "Suppose that's as close to congratulations as we'll be getting from him."

Harry snorted in amusement, unfortunately inhaling some of the champagne he'd been drinking. He spluttered a bit, coughing until he could breathe again, hoping that most of their guests had missed  that less-than-gentlemanly display. "I suppose it is," he said, voice a little more strained than usual. 

Honestly, that was probably exactly what Eggsy needed to see just then. While he patted Harry’s shoulder, making sure he was alright, he couldn't help laughing under his breath. "You alright there, guv?" he asked with half a grin, keeping his hand on the back of Harry’s shoulder even as he straightened himself out. 

"No, I'm not, and it's your fault," Harry muttered accusingly, glaring half-heartedly at Eggsy out of the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat to get his voice back to normal and set his glass down on the table. He wouldn't be needing that for a bit.  

Eggsy only continued chuckling. "Yep, all my fault. Let's get you set down yeah? Don't want you killing yourself on our wedding. Looks very bad for me." Grinning, he nudged him with his hand, coaxing him to start walking. It was only with restraint that he did not swipe a third glass of champagne. He wanted to get drunk, but he also wanted his mother's toast rationing to go well, and he was looking forward to shots in a bit anyway.

Grumbling about how he 'doesn't really need to sit down, thank you very much, I've handled worse,' Harry reluctantly let Eggsy nudge him over to their table. He sank down into the chair, hand closing around Eggsy's wrist. "But if I have to sit here, you're sitting with me," he insisted, tugging him onto his lap.

"Oh, if you  _ insist _ ." Eggsy pretended to sigh in resignation, but settled himself down fairly easily, as though it wasn't a surprise at all to be pulled down onto Harry’s lap. A smirk on his face, Eggsy looked at him with one eyebrow quirked in silent question, wiggling a bit.

Harry wound his arms around Eggsy's waist, leaning back in his chair and smiling innocently up at him. "Is there a reason you're looking at me like that?" he asked.

"Suppose not," Eggsy snickered, draping one of his arms behind Harry's head so he could both see him properly and not have his arms in his lap like a child. "You’ve only had part of one drink, guv. You gonna throw me over your shoulder or something after you've had three?" he teased, mostly playing off the fact that only two hours ago they hadn't touched much at all. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not drunk, Eggsy. This was an entirely conscious choice meant to be a punishment for your earlier behavior," he said, leveling a grave look at him. 

"Obviously not," Eggsy snorted. "Well, yet anyway. If this is a punishment, it's a poor punishment." He countered Harry’s grave look with a purposefully pleasant smile. "Don't mean I’m getting off, though," he added.

"I've never had much practice with discipline," Harry muttered. "And I never said you had to get off. In fact, I think you might have a bit of a hard time of it if you tried." He tightened his arms around Eggsy's waist meaningfully.

"Good. You're surprisingly comfy." Eggsy crossed one leg over another on his lap, still giving his vague smirking smile. Acting on impulse, he lifted the hand draped behind Harry and touched his hair, playing with a lock of it rather curiously.

Harry didn't stop him, but he did glance over in Michelle's direction. "Do you think she expects us to remain presentable throughout the entire reception?" he murmured, lowering his voice conspiratorially. Drinking was much more fun when one could lose an article of clothing here or there.

"Nah." When Harry didn't exactly stop him, Eggsy kept at it, playing with the surprisingly soft hair. "Mum wanted the ceremony to be perfect. Asking me to stay that put together for longer than a few hours ain't gonna happen." He hummed, deliberately moving a lock from its place to Harry’s forehead. "Not gonna put on my jacket or anything, but we can get a little ruffled," he said with a wink.

Thank God. Harry resisted the urge to shrug out of his jacket right then and there only because that was difficult to do with an Eggsy seated on his lap. And he wasn't nearly drunk enough yet to discard his tie, so he would have to remain as he was for the time being. "Do you know when she's planning on officially starting this? I would think most people would have made their way over here by now."

"I know only a little bit more than you do about all this," Eggsy said, dropping his hands as he looked around the set-up for his mother. "Probably soon? Only a thing or two, then we can do whatever." What  _ was  _ the plan for after the reception? Eggsy didn't have one, nor did he particularly feel like asking. Seemed like the kind of night to let unfold as it would and go with the flow. 

"Think she wants to say something. It's more her show than ours, I think," Eggsy added with a rather fond grin aimed at the back of Michelle’s head.

"I think I prefer it that way. It's been entirely too much my show already," Harry muttered, thinking of the dozens of handshakes and smiles he'd had to endure. He was used to fading into the background. This was not the background. "Besides, she's done a much better job of it than I would have. I like your mother."

"May come as a shock, but I like her too." Eggsy grinned at him, then patted the arms encircling his waist, asking him to let go. "Sweet that she put a lot into it. But we're almost done with the formal stuff. Don't forget you owe me a swing dance." That'd be fun to see. He'd ditch his own coat for that. Perhaps a quick word with his mother to delay the official dance until after the alcohol had been made available. He was curious what Harry would be like with it, as well as wanting to be a bit looser himself.

At Eggsy's silent command, Harry released his hold on him, getting to his feet once he was free to. "I remember," he assured him, already moving away. He had a glass of champagne to get back to.

As he was released, Eggsy hopped up and slid into his proper chair, smirking at Harry's back as he walked away. This time he didn't follow; he had no real need to. So he sat, content to flick through his phone, take a selfie or two while he waited for… whatever he was waiting for.

Harry had no sooner returned to his seat than Michelle made her way around to them, finally. 

"Alright, you two?" she asked, smiling the same happy yet tired smile she'd been sporting for the past few hours. "I think that's the last of them come over now, so we should be about ready to start." 

"Fire away, mum," Eggsy grinned, leaning forward in his chair. 

Michelle flew off again after that, making sure everyone of age had a glass of the champagne -- Eggsy was now on his third -- before taking the previously vacant seat to Eggsy's right with Daisy settled in beside her. She stood there and tried to call for attention twice over the rabble of the attendees, before giving up and banging her glass with the side of her fork. 

Everyone quieted and turned to look at her, which immediately made her blush, and Eggsy could feel her tighten up a bit beside him.

Now that the time had actually come for the reception to start, Harry found he would have much preferred the relative anonymity he'd possessed before. At least then the guests had been conversing amongst themselves instead of all looking up at him and Eggsy. Well, rather more at Michelle, he noted, relaxing a bit. 

"Er, hello," Michelle started, nervously smiling over all the faces turned toward her. "For those of you who know me, I'm so glad you could make it. For those of you who don't, my name's Michelle, I'm Eggsy's mother." And she touched his shoulder while smiling down at him. 

Eggsy couldn't help but beam up at her with love and support, patting her hand. 

"I'm not really one for giving speeches or toasts," Michelle said, her fingers flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder. "So I'll just say I'm so happy to be here with all of you, friends and family, the people who matter most to celebrate such an important day in the lives of Eggsy and Harry both. As a mother, I'm so proud of who my son has grown to become. It ain't been easy, but I couldn't ask for a better boy." 

Eggsy's throat tightened, and he popped up out of his chair long enough to plant a kiss on Michelle's cheek to light laughter from the attendees. 

"Oh stop, I won't be able to finish," she teasingly chastised him, and he grinned back at her, unabashed. 

When the moment passed, Michelle continued. "And, admittedly, I haven't known Harry for very long." While she was rather ambiguous on this point, she looked over to Harry with a smile not much different from the one she had given her son. "But I know he's a good man, and he'll be good to my boy. And sometimes, that's all you need to know."

Harry nodded encouragingly at her at the mention, trying not to think about how little she really did know about him. 

The red in Michelle’s face had increased even as her voice grew more steady; much longer and she'd be indistinguishable from a tomato with blonde hair. "I hope this day will be the start of a long and happy shared life together." 

Finally, Michelle lifted her glass up in the air. "To Eggsy and Harry." 

The attendees echoed her in loud unison, and at once they all took a drink from their glasses, Eggsy included.

Harry raised his glass (the second; he'd managed to finish the first while Michelle was talking) with all the others, joining in on the toast and draining the glass.

"Right! Well that's enough of that," Michelle said, flipping her hair back over her shoulder and grinning this time, much more relaxed than she had been seconds earlier. "Let's get the cake passed out and start to celebrate proper, yeah?" 

Her words were met with enthusiastic agreement and some scattered laughter, the attendees turning to each other to resume their conversations as the caterers stationed around the room began to do a flurry of things all at once. Rolling trays of different types of cake -- Eggsy had been indecisive, and this was actually a bit more cost-effective -- started being pushed between tables, space was cleared away where the champagne had been for a dance floor to become illuminated, and the furthermost wall opposite where Harry and Eggsy sat lit up, showing the full bar Dean had been so keen on 20-odd minutes ago. 

Harry watched the procession of cakes roll out with a raised eyebrow, casting a glance over at Eggsy who he suspected had something to do with that. The open bar was of far more interest to him, the champagne having had barely any effect. Certainly nothing of the caliber he was looking for. It would have to be his first stop. That thought was even more solidified when the dance floor was prepared, a reminder that he was going to have to be on it before too long.

"You did great, mum," Eggsy said as he stood, pulling his mother in for a hug. "Could barely tell you were shaking in your boots."

"I fucking hate speeches," she agreed with a laugh, pulling back from the hug, but still holding him at arm's length to get a look at him. Making a small sound, she pulled him back in for another hug before letting go. She drank the rest of her champagne as Eggsy sat down again, the red draining from her face. "Right, that should be nearly everything for today, actually." 

Eggsy was already pulling at his tie to get it to come off and eyeing the bar to see if he could recognize any bottles or brands from where he stood. 

Michelle rolled her eyes but let him do it anyway. "Have fun, then," she said, leaning down to press a kiss to Eggsy's cheek.

When Michelle seated herself, Harry also offered her a bright smile. "It really was lovely. You have quite the talent for speeches. Even if public speaking might not be your forte," he added, fingers brushing against his cheek to parallel her own ones which were still tinged with red. 

Michelle laughed, waving one of her hands somewhat helplessly at her own face. "I'll be honest, I been practicing that since yesterday. But thank you, that's sweet of you to say." She smiled right at him, the fussiness and anxiety having been mostly purged from her system, leaving her relaxed and what would be calm once the residual nerves had drained away. 

"Right, well I'm gonna grab a cake and something to drink before the best stuff's gone," Eggsy announced as he stood from his chair, leaving his tie behind and popping the first two buttons on his shirt. 

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'll do the same," Harry said, pushing back his own chair and getting to his feet. He kept all of his clothes on as he made his way over to the open bar, resolved to stay completely dressed until he at least had the excuse of being tipsy. 

Dean was making his lumbering way to the bar as well, half-stumbling to get there.

Michelle let them go, staying behind to check on Daisy and make sure she didn't wander off to steal some of the cakes, as she was clearly thinking of doing.

Eggsy saw Dean making his way over to the bar, but he didn't stop or change course. He wasn't about to let Dean dictate what he could or couldn't do today, even indirectly. And maybe he would have a word with the server, tell them not to serve him much of anything. As Eggsy was from the furthest table away, he reached the back bar second, and paid Dean no mind as he requested a shot of fireball.

“Fireball, I see,” Harry said as he made his way up to the bar. “Makes sense at a wedding.”

"Does it?" Eggsy blinked, turning his head towards him curiously. He couldn't tell if he was serious or joking; he had just asked for the first shot that came to mind, and he wasn't even listening for whatever it was Dean was slurring out down the line. "There some cliche no one told me?" 

Shaking his head, Harry turned to the bartender to double the order before answering. "No. Not that I know of, anyways. But this isn't just any whiskey, this is Fireball whiskey." He solemnly placed one hand over his heart, closing his eyes as if overcome with emotion. "For the flame of love that burns in our hearts." 

Eggsy snorted a laugh, shaking his head right back as he nudged him with his shoulder. "If that's the case, I'm gonna get rip-shit on all the fiery love my heart can hold." 

The filled shot-glasses were set down in front of them, and Eggsy was only too happy to take them both and turn to Harry, offering him his with a cheeky sort of smirk. "Bottom's up,  _ husband. _ "

Harry accepted the glass, raising an eyebrow at the emphasis. He lifted it up briefly in a miniature toast before bringing it to his lips and throwing it back, savoring the taste of it. It was ten times better than the champagne, and he signaled for a second one.

Eggsy continued smirking to himself as he signaled for the same. It was just sort of funny to him, all of this. Funny and insane. He sighed, leaning his forearms on the bar and stretching up on his toes, bent over a bit as he waited.

Soon, the shots arrived, and they didn’t stop coming for a long time. 

-

After his third shot, Harry was ready to ditch his jacket. The alcohol was plenty warm enough, and he didn't need the extra layer of material so he slipped it off, bidding the bar farewell just long enough to drape it over the back of his chair.

The fifth saw the loss of his tie, placed carefully over top of his jacket. And it was the sixth that had him rolling up his cuffs and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his dress shirt. Drunk Harry had arrived.

After Eggsy’s own third, he'd had the sense to inform the bartender not to serve Dean very much. Which had seemed to be a good call, because after that, things began to get a bit fuzzy. He was still present, still making memories of the event, but the alcohol was working its magic. 

He laughed often, red began colouring his face, his coat was ditched more haphazardly on the back of his chair as well as Harry's, and he was talking. A few conversations, a few photo-ops, but by drink five, Eggsy was feeling like dancing. He finally left the bar and the tables -- cake had been the only thing he wanted, which tended to happen if you took bites of three different kinds -- and made his way out by himself, trusting that his friends or someone would end up joining him. He didn't hold much hope for it being Harry, as he'd said he wasn't much of a dancer, but eventually he would end up being pulled over, Eggsy remembered with a loose grin. 

Drunk Harry had the exact same feelings about dancing as his sober counterpart, but drunk Harry did feel a little worse about leaving Eggsy on the floor by himself than sober Harry. His husband wasn't alone for long, however, as some of Eggsy's family members -- and, to Harry’s unending surprise, even a few of his own co-workers -- joined him. He was actually enjoying watching them, especially Eggsy. 

The music he had picked out was perhaps more stereotypical of Eggsy's tastes. It was the kind of music you could dance to, remixes of songs to add a dance beat or loud, synthetic rhythms specifically designed to get people moving. 

Eggsy was coherent enough to know not to take up with a specific dance partner; he knew himself, and honestly, he was a bit of a slutty drunk, so instead he danced among the others instead of with. There was a brief exception where he danced back to back with Jamal, arms waving, lipsynching to the song as best as one could when they were laughing every few seconds.

While Harry might not have particularly minded Eggsy's dancing, he did have to say that the music selection was rather void of good taste. The alcohol made it easier to tolerate, however, and there were a few songs he found he not only tolerated but could even like, tapping his foot along to some of the beats. He made a couple trips back to the bar, one or two more shots blurring the world just a little bit more and helping him relax further. 

Once the remix of Chandelier wound down, Eggsy broke away from the small group of friends that had joined him, waving them a temporary goodbye with his face red and split with a smile. After turning a bit to find him, he made his way over to where Harry was. 

Without so much as a hello, Eggsy walked around behind him and bent down to drape one arm across the front of his shoulders, leaning down to his ear so he could be heard over the Daft Punk playing on the speakers. "You having fun over here by yourself?" 

When Harry returned from one of his trips to the bar, he turned his eyes back to the dance floor, scanning it for Eggsy. His eyes narrowed when he couldn't find him. He hadn't thought he was quite  _ that _ drunk. But a second scan didn't turn him up either. Harry was about to just get up and look for him when there was an arm encircling him. His hand automatically flew up to grab at the limb, moving on instinct, but he stopped when he heard Eggsy's voice in his ear. "Christ, Eggsy, don't startle me like that," he breathed out, twisting to look up at him and ignoring his question entirely. 

"Can't promise that," Eggsy snickered in his ear, pulling back just a little to give Harry some personal space. He still kept his arm draped around him. "But didn’t mean to this time." 

Harry reached up to place his hand over Eggsy's, brushing his thumb over his knuckles. "You seem to be enjoying yourself," he said lightly, looking back to the dance floor since it was easier than craning his head up to see Eggsy.

Contented, Eggsy couldn't help the swaying of his hips to the music that beat on without him, his eyes closed and head tilted toward Harry's. "Mmm," he hummed in agreement. "I'm having a good time, yeah. Are you, though?" He looked at what was essentially just Harry’s face in profile, lit with different colour lights. "Been looking up every now and then. You ain't been doing much.

"I wouldn't say I'm having a bad time," Harry replied. He was perfectly content to just sit and do nothing, but he could see how that might be misconstrued. "Don't let me stop you." 

"You should come out there with me," Eggsy coaxed, grinning and nudging at Harry. "It'd be fun, I promise~"

Harry was already shaking his head before Eggsy was even finished speaking. "No, no, no, I promised you one dance. That was all." 

"C'mooooon,” Eggsy prodded, voice little better than a whine, though more amused than annoyed. "You ain't gotta do much, really. Everyone else's out there, so why not?" 

It was possible, Harry supposed, that Eggsy just wasn't going to go away until he got what he wanted. "Do you really want our only dance to be to..." He paused briefly to identify the song, "Talk Dirty to Me?" The tone of his voice indicated just what he thought of that idea. 

"Surprised you know that one," Eggsy laughed, finally loosening his hold on Harry to straighten up and turn around. He leaned the table so they could properly look at each other again. "C'mon bruv, you gotta be drunk enough to give dancing with me a go, obnoxious horn solo or not," he grinned.

"That horn solo is the reason I recognized this song," Harry muttered, listening to the trumpets blare. He looked at Eggsy full on for a second before closing his eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. I suppose I might as well try," he sighed, rising out of his seat. 

Positively beaming with the happiness of getting what he wanted, Eggsy reached forward and grasped Harry's wrist in his hand, pulling him towards the dance floor eagerly. He was anxious to put this little experiment of his to work, and drunken Eggsy's mind was all the more in favour of the idea, totally consumed with wanting Harry, specifically Harry, to dance with him, even if it wasn't to a song he'd picked out. It didn't truly matter, after all, and he was still holding out hope that he'd get more than the promised singular dance.

Harry allowed himself to be tugged onto the dance floor, glancing around somewhat self-consciously. Nobody appeared to be looking at him, but he couldn't be sure. He stopped before they had gone very far, wanting to remain near the edge of the floor in case he wanted to make a quick escape. The alcohol had helped loosen him up a little, but not enough to get him doing anything more than swaying his upper torso from side to side, his one signature dance move. 

Harry looked so awkward, like he was overthinking how dancing worked to the point where he did nothing. It was... cute. Still smirking, Eggsy allowed them to hover near the edge of the dance floor as opposed to the center, where he would have preferred to be, and stuck close to him. Very close. 

For the moment, Eggsy let go of Harry, dancing with little bobs and jumps to the beat of the song while moving his hips and shoulders in congruent swaying motions, hips snapping a bit more than usual. His hands either in the air or on his thighs, he kept his eyes on Harry with his smirk in place, willing him as hard as he could to enjoy something about this.

Eggsy was a much more carefree dancer than Harry was, and he tried to focus on him instead of his own movements. As he watched his husband dance, he unconsciously began copying him, slightly at first, but as the music went on he matched him more and more without even realizing it. It only took a verse or two for him to be almost as loose as Eggsy was, his hips not quite as sharp but still moving more than they had been. Harry was almost enjoying himself. 

Eggsy was absolutely delighted when Harry let go a bit and loosened up to match him. Definitely a step in the right direction. He grinned and nodded in lieu of trying to vocalize his grateful encouragement over the speakers almost in their ears. Subtly, he danced closer and closer in Harry’s direction. 

They were now so close they were almost touching, Eggsy's arms up and close enough to lock around Harry's neck and pull him in, hips near enough that with just the right snap they could be touching… None of which Eggsy did. Not yet. But oh, how he thought about it, of turning around back-to-chest and gyrating his hips in deliberate circles, grabbing Harry's hands and placing them on his hip bones, thighs, stomach. Sure it was a public and dressy affair, but it was his own wedding, and that was dancing, albeit of a certain type. Eggsy could wish, couldn't he?

Harry barely even noticed Eggsy getting closer as the music played on, too wrapped up in staying on the beat once he'd realized he was doing what pretty much qualified as dancing. It was harder to copy Eggsy when he was actively trying, and the smile gradually slipped from his face, twisting into something more like an awkward grimace. He felt ridiculous.

As soon as Harry’s face changed, Eggsy's smile fell too, and he backed off. He wanted to have some fun with him, and, assuming he'd pushed him too much, he didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable. Eggsy looked at him questioningly, back to his original distance away from him.

While Harry might not have seen Eggsy getting closer, he did notice him backing away. It seemed he'd lost whatever sense of rhythm he might have had and was now just embarrassing himself. In response to Eggsy's curious look, he just shrugged and started making his way off the dance floor. That had been more than enough for him, he thought, refusing to think about the fact that he'd been enjoying himself for a minute or two. 

Eggsy followed him as soon as he began to move away, dropping the dancing. He reached out, grabbing Harry’s arm to get his attention when they were near the edge of the floor itself. "What happened?" he asked, still a bit confused and concerned. Had Eggsy done something to upset him?

Harry hadn't expected Eggsy to come after him, and he glanced down at the hand on his arm keeping him in place. "The song ended," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

... That sounded fake. Maybe Eggsy would have believed it if he hadn't seen the look on Harry’s face, or if he had said some sort of goodbye before trying to leave. That was too simple of an explanation, and besides, it didn't make sense. But perhaps calling your new husband a liar was not a good move. Eggsy could reason out that much while still drunk. "And that's it, then?" Eggsy gave him a small, tired looking smile, but he didn’t release his grip on Harry’s arm.

"Yes, Eggsy, that's it." Eggsy was suspicious. Or, at least, Harry thought he might be because he hadn't let go of his arm yet, even though there really wasn't a reason to keep holding onto him. "You don't have to worry. I'll still do Sweet Caroline with you," he assured him, giving him a smile to match. It didn’t quite reach his eyes.

After a pause, Eggsy nodded and released him. They clearly had two different definitions of fun, and while he knew that, it was rather disappointing to be confronted with it again. "See you in a bit then," he said, straightening back up with the same, vague smile on his face in an attempt to mask his disappointment.

Harry nodded, pulling his arm back to his side now that he had ownership over it again. He was tempted to head back to the bar for another shot, but he didn't think more alcohol was going to make him feel much better. 

Eggsy turned away again and made his way back to the dance floor, more to find his friends than anything else. His enthusiasm had gotten a bit sapped; talking and being with his friends for a bit would help get him back up to par in time for his and Harry's song, or for the one he'd picked out to do with his mother, whichever came first. 

It wasn't quite as fun watching Eggsy this time, not with the knowledge of how it had felt to be dancing with him sitting heavy on Harry’s mind. He could always just get up, walk over there, and join him, he supposed. But this was the last night Eggsy would have with his friends for who knew how long before Harry took him off to his house, so he stayed where he was, wondering absently when Sweet Caroline would start playing. 

A few songs ticked by, after which Eggsy was feeling a bit more himself again. He was certainly having an emotional day. He excused himself from his friends with matching grins and looked around at the tables, scanning for his mother this time. Once he found her, he wiggled and squeezed himself between tables and bodies to stand at her side. He allowed her to pull him into a hug, squeezing her warmly.

Michelle fixed his hair as he spoke to her, nodding as he finished. 

Eggsy grinned and nodded as well. He turned to walk away just as she did the same, heading to opposite ends of the room. Eggsy approached Harry again, impressed with his own ability to walk so straight and upright, smirking. This time, he refrained from hanging off of him. "Hello again," he hummed.

Harry could tell Eggsy was more relaxed this time around, the time spent dancing seemingly having revived him. "Hello again, Eggsy," he said, nodding a greeting to him. "Tired of all the attention yet?" 

"I love attention bruv, and I'm about to get some more," he snickered. Eggsy stood to Harry’s side and extended out his hand in offering. "Thought you might wanna get it over with. Dunno how much longer you wanna be here, and I think this is your last thing you gotta do."

The hand was a clear invitation, and Harry only hesitated a second before accepting it and rising to his feet. "While I don't think it matters how long I want to be here as I'm not leaving until you do, I do agree that we might as well get it over with," he sighed. 

"Happy to see how excited you are," Eggsy smiled sweetly. He didn't drop Harry’s hand once it was accepted, and once again pulled him toward the dance floor. "It's gonna be up next. Do you want me to follow your lead on this one?"

Harry considered that for a moment. "Considering the differences in our heights, it would probably be best if I lead," he finally concluded. This time, he went along to the dance floor more willingly. 

"Alright, then I'll follow, I can do that. Mum's gonna be taking pictures," he added with a grin. He looked over his shoulder where sure enough, Michelle was clicking through her phone, likely clearing space to take a multitude of photos. Eggsy fully let go of Harry, standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his weight on one foot, amused at how into all of this his mother was. 

Groaning internally at the fact that this was going to be documented in any way, Harry mirrored Eggsy's pose, waiting for the music to start. As the seconds ticked past, he did his best to make himself relax, letting those shots of Fireball loosen him up as much as they could. 

By the time the song kicked on, he was a little more ready. He reached for Eggsy's hand, pulling him to his chest before sweeping off to one side, hand falling around his waist. 

Eggsy was still pretty relaxed, and he kept his eyes on Harry with a smirking smile when they pulled into position, one hand in Harry's, the other resting on his shoulder. 

The dance floor had cleared somewhat, with participants not exactly leaving, but giving Harry and Eggsy enough space to do their dance properly without smacking into anyone. And, of course, as soon as the music swelled and the low voice began singing the song, a swing twist to the old classic, most of the attendees backed off even further. 

Eggsy could almost feel the eyerolling from his friends somewhere off to the side, and he bit back a snicker at the image.

Harry quickly found out that Eggsy was an easy dance partner. He moved when Harry wanted him to, not limp but easy to guide, easy to turn, and he all but did the spins himself, exaggerating them just for the fun of it and grinning at Harry as he spun back into his chest.

Harry was relieved Eggsy made it so easy. He'd had experiences leading bad partners, which had ended up seeming more like fighting than dancing. But this, what he had with Eggsy, was definitely the way it was supposed to be. Harry relaxed, truly relaxed, about halfway through the song, movements becoming more fluid and graceful. 

By the time it ended, he almost couldn't remember what it was he'd been so worried about in the first place. But the last few bars of music died out, and Harry dropped his arm from where it had been wrapped around Eggsy, releasing his hand as well. "I suppose that could have gone worse," he mused, shooting him a smile.

"I had fun too," Eggsy laughed. He shook his head in amusement and took a step back once they released each other. 

The next song started up, a slower beat than the previous ones, but Eggsy was getting tired, having been dancing to most of the songs up until then. He stepped off the floor, smiling and waving at those who cheered or wished him well after their dance. After he stepped off the floor, he ran a hand through his hair, ruining what little style there had been left.

Harry followed Eggsy off the floor. The dance was fun, but not something he needed to repeat with someone else. Add to that the fact that he was more than ready to get away from all the staring eyes, and he peeled off to make his way out through a back exit, crossing the road and heading back to the church. He'd meant what he said, of course; he wasn't going to leave without Eggsy. But he was going to spend a bit of time away from the crushing majority.

Eggsy watched Harry leave, not terribly perturbed by his departure. He was ready to wind down, and he was sure Harry had his own ways of doing just that. He wasn't about to encroach on them. Instead, he grabbed himself a beer and a few more for other people from the bar while it was still open, and took a seat at a random table, inviting his friends to sit with him. 

Harry returned to the place he and Eggsy had met up earlier, leaning back against the wall and letting out a long sigh.

"You told me you couldn't swing dance, you bastard. We could have used that in Bali," came a crackling voice from the frame of his glasses.

A wry smile slid onto Harry's face, and he reached up to activate his own comms link. "Merlin. I was wondering when you were going to show up. Have you been watching all night?" He sort of hoped he hadn't been, but knew that was pretty unlikely. 

Merlin just snorted. "Miss your wedding? I wouldn't dream of it."

Harry looked back to the reception area where people were slowly beginning to trickle out of the venue. "Speaking of, I should probably be getting back," he muttered. "It appears to be wrapping up." So saying, he deactivated the microphone, pushed off the wall, and headed back across the street. 

Eggsy and his friends talked, laughed, made fun of Eggsy's song choices and teased him for how well he had been dressed and how quickly it had fallen away. They chatted their way through the rest of the wedding, until chairs began to be squeaked back into place and those who had come out of obligation began to file out. 

It was wrapping up, slowly but surely, and Eggsy couldn't say he was very disappointed. He was about ready to get going himself. He could use a shower, baggy clothes, and a lie-down.

When Harry weaved his way back inside, he looked around for Michelle. It seemed only right to thank her before he left.

Michelle herself was looking extremely tired, as though she were thinking longingly of sleep. She held a sleeping Daisy in her arms and stood close to the exit to wave goodbye or have a short chat with guests as they left, since Eggsy wasn't doing it. She didn't blame him, of course; he didn't even know most of the people here. They were her guests for the most part, so it was up to her to see them off. 

Eggsy was still sitting in his little group, rubbing his face and trying to hide his e-cig from his mother's gaze.

Harry waited patiently at Michelle's shoulder until the last guest had filed out, giving them a murmur of farewell as they walked past him. Once they had all left, he nodded to her. "Thank you, really. This couldn't have happened without you."

When she was able, Michelle turned to Harry and gave him a warm smile. "You're so welcome. I was happy to pull it together. I think it went well, yeah? But after all that, I think I'm ready for a kip," she added with a quiet laugh, patting Daisy's back gently. 

Harry returned her warm smile. "You've more than earned it," he assured her. "Don't worry about cleaning things up around here; the least I can do is take care of that."

"Oh, no, no," she started, her personality dictating that she should brush off the help. But she was so tired, and the offer was so tempting, that her rebuttal sounded pretty half-hearted. "It's your thing, I couldn't let you."

"You're exactly right, it's my thing, meaning I should take on some of the responsibility for it," Harry said. He gave her a look that practically dared her to argue with him. "Now go say goodbye to Eggsy, and I'll see what I can do about all," he swept his arm around to indicate everything, "this."

With that look, Michelle smiled again, rather gratefully this time, and nodded. "Thank you, I would really appreciate it." She touched his arm for lack of knowing how else to express her gratitude and turned to go and say her goodbyes.

Harry lingered just a bit to make sure she actually went off to do what she said she was going to before he got started. He found a storage closet and hauled out a box of extra-large trash bags, beginning the laborious process of clearing the trash from the room.

Michelle walked to Eggsy's table, bouncing a sleeping Daisy when she stirred. 

Eggsy's friends looked up at her approach and took the sign to clear off, saying goodbye with handshake hugs and pats on his back. They waved to Michelle with cheeky, almost flirtatious grins. Eggsy hastily stuffed his e-cig into his coat which was settled back around his shoulders, and stood to greet his mum.

"Hey, mum," he smiled, keeping his voice low. 

She beamed at him, just looking at him for so long that Eggsy almost grew concerned.

"C'mere," she hummed.

Obediently, Eggsy stepped into her arms, leaning into the one that looped around his waist and wrapping his own around her and Daisy both. 

Michelle closed her eyes and smiled, and not for the first time that day, she fought back the tears that started to well in her eyes. 

After a long hug, she pulled away and looked at him with a tired, red-rimmed gaze. "We're gonna head out," she said, just above a whisper, and jerked her head towards the exit. "Gotta get Dais home."

Understanding now what the hug was about, Eggsy gave her a warm smile of his own and nodded. "Yeah, alright, mum. Do you need help getting her to the car?"

"I can manage." Unable to help herself, Michelle pulled him in again by his neck and planted a kiss on his forehead, feeling overwhelmingly maternal. 

Eggsy let her, and blew a kiss to Daisy as well. He looped an arm around his mother and walked with her to the doors quietly, enjoying the soft music that was playing now in the background. 

"Mr.- er, Harry offered to clean up," Michelle said, pulling at her hair when he released her arm at the doors. "He's off somewhere." She gestured vaguely, not having kept track.

"Yeah, I'll help right this mess." Eggsy gave her a crooked grin, and held the door open for her. 

She stepped outside and waved back in the building wherever Harry might be, and gave a second direct wave to Eggsy. 

"Bye, mum," he grinned, hanging off the door.

"Bye, love. Text me, yeah?" And Michelle descended the small steps and cooed at Daisy as she walked to her car alone, Dean having stumbled off some time ago.

Eggsy closed the door with a silent chuckle, feeling rather pleased at how affectionate she had been over him. She always did mean well, even when situations weren't the best.

Finally, he turned his attention to the nearly barren room, tables and chairs askew, and looked for Harry to offer his help in the less-than-thrilling job of clean up.

Harry hadn’t been idle while Michelle went off to get Eggsy. He cleared half the main room and moved off to a couple of smaller, side ones right afterwards, nearly filling up an entire garbage bag before he heard the door open and close again. One set of foosteps, Eggsy's he presumed, came towards him, and Harry dropped one last stray cup into the bag before tying it up and heading back out into the main room. He dropped the bag near the bar so he could grab it later. 

Without pause, Harry moved on to the tables, straightening the chairs and tablecloths at each one. "You might want to get a taxi to take you to the house," he suggested, glancing up at Eggsy as he moved on to the next one. "I could be here for a bit longer." Then he paused as if suddenly  remembering something, focusing his full attention on the younger man. "And I've done up the guest room, if you'd prefer to stay in there." 

Eggsy blinked at him, confused. "...You don’t want help cleaning this up? ... And you'd be fine with me being there alone?" 

Eggsy hadn't expected any of that. First of all, of course he was going to offer his help, that wasn't much of a question. But Harry was fine sending Eggsy on his merry way? Alone in whatever house it was Harry lived in? Eggsy hadn't ever been there before, after all. And least of all did he expect the sensitivity to the anxiety he’d felt over going from 0 to sharing-a-bed in one day. He had avoided thinking about it; he didn't know Harry's expectations on any of the post-marital obligations he would now have.

Harry shrugged, going back to his self-appointed task of setting the chairs right. "I wouldn't mind your help in clearing up if you're willing to give it, but I thought you might like a little time to get used to your new surroundings without me staring over your shoulder," he commented, fussing over another of the tablecloths. "I don't see why I would have any objections with you being there alone; that's probably how it will be most of the time anyway." What with his work and the potential “business trips” he could have, there weren’t usually many times when he was cooped up in his house for long stretches. 

Upon reflection, that did make sense. Eggsy probably would appreciate some time alone, time to adjust, learn his way around. And it was likely that Harry would want a break from him as well. "...Yeah, alright, cab then. I'll see you in a bit, yeah?" he asked almost awkwardly, fishing out his phone to make a call to a cab company.

"Yes, I would imagine this won't take too much longer," Harry said, glancing around to see what he still had left to do. There were a few tables left to fix up and the bar to wipe down, but all of that shouldn't take more than half an hour. "I'll come to see you before I go to sleep." 

"Right." As Harry was busy, Eggsy gave him a light smile in parting, then let him carry on with straightening up. He held the phone up to his ear to make the call, awaiting the cab on his own outside the building. He ended up walking down a block or two to meet it, but he didn’t mind. After all, it was a nice night, and he liked walking, even in these clothes and shoes.

It didn't take much longer than Harry had thought it would to finish up, and he debated whether or not to linger and give Eggsy a little more time to settle in. But there truly was nothing to do and, if he was completely honest, he was more than ready to end the day. In the end, he just drove slower than usual as a sort of compromise.

Home, and Eggsy, were waiting for him. 


	5. A Home

When the taxi had dropped Eggsy off, he began operating under the assumption that he would have maybe 20 minutes before Harry showed up. He entered carefully, and just stood in the doorway for a solid minute, looking around and admiring the place. 

Right off the bat, it was more spacious and nicer than the small flat he'd shared with his mother and Dean. It wasn't to his taste decor wise, but it wasn't meant to be. It just left him feeling very much like an intruder, being so at odds with the pictures hanging, the silverware on display in the dining area he could see, the overall un-lived in feeling the walls put off. He probably wouldn't feel comfortable until he made some part of it his own.

Eggsy made a slow progression through the house, memorizing where things were, which rooms were which. Eventually, he found what must have been the master bedroom, Harry's bedroom. He hovered at the door, looking in, but couldn't bring himself to enter. Eggsy turned away, and went instead to the guest bedroom.

It was pretty generic all in all: bed, dresser, side table, not much going on. But it felt less imposing, less like Eggsy was pushing in somewhere. He entered and shut the door behind him quietly; even though he was the only one here, it felt necessary to keep noises down in the silence of the house. He tossed his coat and tie onto the bed and unfastened his belt as he rummaged around in the mostly empty drawers for spare pants. He found some pyjama ones that were a touch too big, so he pulled the drawstring tight and called it good.

Ditching his shirt on the bed, he decided meh, if he was lounging about and living here now, why bother having a shirt on at all? He felt 10 times better just being out of those clothes. Come morning, Eggsy would have a proper look about, but for now, he was pretty content to just be. 

When he heard the door, he left the room, phone in his pocket, and wandered out into the hall, almost shy.

Harry turned and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Eggsy, freezing for a second. Almost as quickly as the startled look flew over his face it disappeared as he remembered that, no, he wasn't alone in his house anymore, another person lived here now. He relaxed again, breathing out heavily and scrubbing a hand over his face. "Eggsy, right. I trust you found everything alright?" he asked, moving off to the sofa so he could get out of his shoes. 

As he sat, he shrugged out of his jacket, which he'd put back on before leaving for the sole reason that he thought he would forget it if he didn't, and draped it over the back. Then he started in on unlacing his Oxfords. 

When the startled look flashed across Harry’s face, Eggsy bit down on his lip in what was both amusement and mild guilt. A good thing he wasn't just wandering about, then. At least he hadn't surprised him in the morning or something, where a sleepy Harry might very well attack him thinking he was an intruder. Although, it was probably likely Eggsy would still startle him for the first few days. Maybe he should resolve to make more noise than usual to remind Harry he was around somewhere. 

"Mm," Eggsy hummed in agreement, not approaching him. "I got my uh, my stuff, in what I'm guessing is the spare room you mentioned. Just letting you know that, er, I'll be in there, then."

Once he was free of his shoes, Harry rose, and made his way around the sofa to where Eggsy was standing. He nodded once, in acknowledgement of his statement. "Good night, then, Eggsy. Should you need anything, I'll be in my room." 

He looked down at Eggsy for a moment longer, eyes flicking to his lips briefly, staying there for a few more seconds than they ought to before darting back up to his face. "See you in the morning." With that, he was brushing past him, reaching out to snag his coat from the back of the sofa as he went.  

Eggsy stayed where he was as Harry walked around him and down the hall to his room. He was smiling faintly as soon as Harry could no longer see him, and rubbed the back of his neck as he left. 

Harry’s lingering eyes hadn't escaped his notice, but he wasn't going to say anything about it. It did leave him remembering the all too brief kisses they had shared before the ceremony, making him wonder what Harry would kiss like without the self-imposed constraints. He had seemed opposed to Eggsy's pushing for physical contact, but was it circumstantial, genuinely because he hadn't wanted to upset Michelle and that alone? Or had he been very literal when he said he wouldn't have an “affectionate husband”? 

Thoughts for another day, Eggsy supposed. Tonight, it was time for bed.

He returned to his room and flopped down on the bed, sighing out his exhaustion. It wouldn't take long to fall asleep, and he just texted until it came.

Harry didn't find getting to sleep easy, even if he was pretty well exhausted. He prepared for bed slowly, not thinking of much of anything other than the fact that he’d stared so obviously at Eggsy's lips that there was no way the younger man hadn't seen it. Harry had wanted to kiss him, almost had, and the thought made him uncomfortable. 

As he'd assured Eggsy before they were married, he wasn't affectionate and he didn't have any intention of becoming so either. But the way Eggsy had looked standing there, so out of place in a pair of pyjama pants and little else, had stirred up an urge to reassure him that that was where he was supposed to be. 

When he actually got into bed, he flicked off the lamp on the nightstand and stared up into the darkness. Eventually, his mind gave him some peace and he drifted off, finding solace in unconsciousness, the alcohol assuring he slept deeply. 

-

Eggsy had fallen asleep with his phone in his hand. He hadn't thought ahead enough to consider setting an alarm of any kind, nor did he check if there was a clock in the room in which he was sleeping. When the sunlight poured in and hit his eyes, waking him, he had no idea what time it was. Instinctively, he clicked his phone, but it must have died in the night. His confusion at his surroundings lessened as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, memories of yesterday falling into place. Oh yeah. He was at Harry's house. 

His curiosity as to the time -- as well as the pressing need to find and use a washroom -- led him to step his bare feet down quietly onto the carpet and creep across to the door. He peered around the doorway, and, not finding anything, ventured forward and out into the house. It wasn't dark as it had been yesterday, lit by whatever lights he had turned on, and the house seemed more approachable in the warm light of morning, the pastels and soft tones and warm wood draining some of the tension from Eggsy’s shoulders.

The restroom was, of course, his first stop. He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror, rubbing at his chin. He needed to shave; he was starting to get dark stubble around his jaw. His hair was still a mess, and his mouth felt gross, but until he got his things at some point today, this would have to do. 

Setting the water to decently warm, he washed his face, which helped quite a bit to wake him up, and ran his wet fingers through his hair for good measure. He kept at it until he got it to the purposefully messy look rather than the 'I just rolled out of bed and haven't figured out where a comb is' look. After making do with gargling some mouthwash he found in the cabinet, Eggsy finished getting somewhat put together and stepped back out again.

He reached up and grabbed the top of the door frame, arching his back to get a good stretch on his limbs and spine. As Eggsy let go and allowed himself a yawn, he remembered his original plan to be noisy enough to remind Harry he was there, and let his feet click on the hardwood flooring as he explored his way to the kitchen. He was hungry enough to rummage for some sort of food until he could tell Harry he needed to go get some of his things and figure out what, if anything, Harry needed from him in the upcoming... days, he supposed as a short-term sight.

-

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke in the morning was that he'd slipped his wedding ring off and placed it on the nightstand, probably thinking it was his signet ring. He held it in the palm of his hand for a moment, the small band a reminder of everything that had changed about his life in the past few hours. He replaced it on his finger with a sigh. Mixing it up with his signet wasn't a mistake he could necessarily afford to make again. 

He sat up and stretched. He made sure to keep an ear out for Eggsy, but heard nothing. It was entirely possible that he was still asleep, given that it was only -- Harry checked his watch -- 7:00 A.M. His mouth was dry and begging for water, the effects of last night's shots pounding a pulse through his head. 

Groaning, he heaved himself out of his bed, shuffled into the bathroom, and forced himself to fill a cup instead of sticking his head under the faucet. Feeling slightly more refreshed, he dressed himself in a soft red dress shirt and slacks rather than a suit and made his way to the kitchen. He was careful not to make more noise than was necessary. Eggsy could sleep in as late as he liked; there was nothing pressing on the schedule. 

By the time Harry actually heard signs of movement, he'd settled himself at the table with a mug of tea and a slice of toast, the newspaper spread out in front of him. "Good morning, Eggsy," he muttered when the footsteps drew close. He didn't look up. 

Eggsy had purposefully been making noise to not surprise Harry, but when he turned a corner and found him sitting there, he couldn't help but jump a bit himself. Instinctively, he touched his hand to his chest over his heart, and blinked a few times before continuing on, quiet again now that he had no reason to make unnecessary noise. 

"Morning." If Harry wasn't going to look up to look at him, he saw no reason to dawdle and say anything just to fill awkward silence on his end. Eggsy edged around him to continue to the kitchen, the need for something to combat the still-awful taste in his mouth pressing him on to open the refrigerator and look for orange juice, or water. He would even take milk, much as he didn't usually like it. 

"There's juice on the top shelf, milk in the door, and there's still some hot water if you'd like tea," Harry absently informed him, eyes skimming over a particularly interesting article. He took a sip of his own tea, shifting slightly in his chair and pressing his lips down on the small smile that wanted to form from the way he'd seen Eggsy startle out of the corner of his eye.

Though Harry couldn't see him, Eggsy wrinkled his nose at the offer of tea. He couldn't stand tea -- never had cared for the stuff. May make him a bad Brit, but it always tasted like watered-down spices to him, and not in a good way. So he grabbed some of the juice and, after opening two cabinets first, pulled out a glass. He'd gotten himself a drink. Second battle of the day won. Go team. 

Eggsy relished his small victory once he'd closed the cabinets and put the juice away by leaning on a counter and closing his eyes, allowing himself to simply be. He had nowhere to be, no pressing obligations, no idea where anything in this place was, and a whore of a headache; it was going to be a slow day.

Harry finished the article and realized how quiet it had suddenly become. Glancing up, he saw why. Eggsy leaning back against the counter with a cup of his juice in his hands wasn't likely to make much noise after all. He took the opportunity to stare at him, this being his first time seeing Eggsy in such a... vulnerable state. Nobody truly looked like themselves when they'd first woken up. 

Still, Harry only allowed himself a moment before he was folding up the paper and depositing his dishes in the sink. "We had better find you something to wear until we can get your things."

The sound of the ruffling papers had Eggsy’s eyes snapping open again, and he nodded at Harry’s words. "Mmm," he hummed his agreement and downed the rest of his juice in one go, swishing it about in his mouth before depositing his cup in the sink alongside Harry's dish, following his lead. 

"Much as people on the street might appreciate seeing me shirtless, might get a bit cold," he snickered to himself, and fought to suppress another yawn. "I can always wear yesterday's suit. Bit much, but I’m just going to get my clothes anyway. And phone charger, fucking thing's dead."

Something swept over Harry, perhaps some sort of urge to prove to himself that he was actually married, perhaps not. Whatever it was, it had him stepping in front of Eggsy, had his hands settling on Eggsy's hips. "You're absolutely right you're not going out there walking around like this. This sight is  _ mine _ ." On the last word he tightened his grip, tugging Eggsy forward slightly by his hips. 

Immediately afterwards, he realized what he was doing and dropped his hands as if he'd burned them. He awkwardly busied himself with wiping off his dishes. "I'm sure your suit will be fine."

Eggsy was surprised, to say the least. Harry’s change in demeanor was so abrupt and lasted less than five seconds before he was back to being distant once again. He had even touched Eggsy, grabbed him forward by his hips. It was an assertion of possession, clearly, but he honestly couldn't tell if it was forced out or repressed feelings that broke free. It was there and gone in a flash, leaving Eggsy standing there with his lips slightly parted in surprise, staring at the profile of Harry’s face. Part of Eggsy hoped it was genuine; he always found healthy displays of possessiveness rather hot. And he did like the hip tugging.

But he didn't say anything about it. Harry had changed back to apathetic so quickly, he hadn't had the time to question or flirt with him about it, anyway. "Yeah alright. I'll get changed then," he said after a long enough pause to let him feel all these things, sounding perfectly normal. Impressive, given how confused he still was. He started away again, making to return to his room and gather his clothes together.

As soon as Eggsy was safely out of his line of vision, Harry gripped the edge of the sink, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. He needed to get himself under control; it was unusual for him to have so little say in his own actions, and he didn't like the feeling one bit. Nor did he think Eggsy would appreciate future slip-ups like that. He hadn't reacted much to that little display, thankfully, but was it because he hadn't known how to or because he was trying to spare Harry from embarrassment? 

Sighing, Harry ran a hand through his hair, quietly resolving to rein himself in. He'd done it before, he could do it again. Even if it shouldn't have been a problem in the first place. He slowly peeled his fingers away from the edge of the sink and focused back on the dishes. He'd have to find some sort of happy medium or he was going to give Eggsy whiplash, he thought. 

Eggsy returned to his room, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. Harry was proving very confusing, but he couldn't find it in him to get annoyed or even to put any blame on him for it. It was an odd situation, and he empathized with how long Harry had been by himself, suddenly with a young stranger wearing his ring. He was willing to be patient, to let him adjust. But he was still vaguely nervous about it. He leaned against the closed door and looked down at his hands, where he found himself tugging off and sliding back on that ring he wasn't used to. After a minute, Eggsy left it alone, and kept rubbing at his face instead.

Changing into his suit took longer than strictly necessary, but eventually Eggsy came back. He sat on the couch this time, his clothes a little rumpled from their night on the floor.

Harry noticed Eggsy's return, glancing over at his slightly disheveled look. His wedding ring suddenly felt very heavy as the stark reality of it all hit him. Here was another human being who now had to live with him; they were going to get his things, in fact, because this was permanent. This was how life was now. And Harry didn't want this, didn't want awkward mornings spent tip-toeing around each other and long stretches of silence sitting in between them. He wasn't going to let marriage turn him into a prisoner in his own home.

Unfortunately, that meant talking about it. With a sigh, Harry dried his hands and went over to stand in front of Eggsy, sinking into the chair opposite after a brief pause. "I want to apologize for what I did earlier. It was... uncalled for," he said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

Eggsy cocked his head and stared at Harry for a moment. His natural instinct was to say he didn't have to apologize and leave it at that, maybe throw a grin in there that he didn't really feel. But maybe this wasn't the time. He gathered a few thoughts, and cleared his throat before speaking. "... You ain't gotta apologize, Harry," he started, sincerely meaning it. "But you gotta know it's confusing, yeah? Feels weird to have you flip-flopping on how you’re treating me, you get me? I don't mind if you’re gonna do stuff like that at all really, but to go right back to treating me like a mild burden skulking about your kitchen, it's sending some mixed signals." He smiled wryly.

Harry blinked, a bit taken aback. Apparently he'd been wrong to assume that he'd made Eggsy uncomfortable by grabbing him. It had in fact been the casualness afterwards that he hadn't liked. Harry sat there silently for a bit, processing that. "You aren't a burden," he finally said, breaking his silence. "But I'd thought I overstepped my boundaries and..." He trailed off, shrugging and desperately wishing he hadn't started this conversation in the first place. "Just tell me the next time I make you uncomfortable," he muttered, heaving himself back to his feet.

Eggsy extended his hand to stop him, sitting upright a bit more. "Harry." He dropped the smile, trying to keep his attention. This was only making him feel weirder, and while he didn't like how uncomfortable Harry looked, he'd rather plow through another thing or two while that vague strain was being addressed.

At both the outstretched hand and the use of his name, Harry stopped, turning back to see Eggsy looking slightly more serious than he had before. He didn't say anything, just stood there looking at him, waiting to see what it was he wanted.

Eggsy dropped his hand and chewed his lip as he met Harry's eyes. There was a lot he wanted to say to him that he either just didn't feel comfortable saying yet, or was afraid of how Harry would react, unpredictable as he had been thus far. He felt some ... block, and he had no idea what it was or on whose end. He knew there were things he was avoiding talking about, things he wasn't even letting himself think about, and he assumed Harry had his own secrets as well. 

It was like a coin toss. Eggsy would have to address one of them right now, and Harry would either be receptive or he wouldn't. For the life of him, Eggsy could not predict which one it would be. But there was no sense in prolonging the inevitable. He chose his topic, one of the things that had been giving him the most confusion, and mentally took a deep breath before speaking.

"...you can touch me, you know. I'm not averse to it. Don't be afraid of making me uncomfortable; I'll tell you if I am, but I pretty much doubt it'll come up." Eggsy been touched many, many times before, not all of it welcome. But little though he knew of Harry, he trusted him enough with this, and would until he was ever given a reason not to. "The only reason I ain't touching you is because you get right tense about it afterwards. Closed off and unapproachable and all. And I don't want to make you more uneasy than you already are with me being here. So yeah. Don't apologize for it. That's all,” he ended rather lamely, sitting back in his seat and idly toying with the wedding ring again, sliding it up to his knuckle and then back down almost subconsciously.

For a moment, Harry was at a loss for words. He wasn't used to being touched unless someone was trying to hurt him, beyond Merlin patting his shoulder once or twice, but he hadn't even realized how obvious his adverse reactions had been. He probably should have, but he didn't always think of things like that; there were certainly still adjustments to be made. Sighing, he moved closer to where Eggsy was now sitting. 

"I didn't mean to make you think I didn't  _ want _ you to touch me," Harry assured him, reaching down and taking Eggsy’s hand once he'd slid the wedding ring back down. "I truly don't mind." Or, at least, he wouldn't. He'd get used to it. Eventually. Even so, he drew Eggsy's hand up to his face and laid it to rest on his cheek. "See? I'm fine." 

Eggsy smirked and his shoulders shook once in a silent laugh; it must have been quite awhile since Harry had had a significant other, apparently. He could sense as much. Harry had flat-out told Eggsy that he wasn't affectionate. 

Even with the reassurance, Eggsy was going to take it about 40-50% of his usual caliber with his partners in the past. At least until Harry was less jumpy and less apathetic towards him. Instinctively, he gently cupped Harry's face and brushed his cheekbone with his thumb, feeling the surprisingly soft and warm skin. Harry couldn't genuinely mean that he was fine through and through, not with how reluctant he had been and how careful and fleeting the touches up until then had been. Maybe Eggsy was just a tactile person and communicated well through touching and using his hands as opposed to words, something he'd taken for granted that everyone else shared with him. 

This Harry was a lot different from the distant one he had met at the pub, the one he had envisioned himself putting up with for a few hours a week. And, if Eggsy admitted it to himself, the flashes of the approachable Harry he had met yesterday -- the one that had laughed with him, pulled him on his lap, danced with him on the dance floor --  _ him _ , he genuinely liked. And bit by bit, maybe Eggsy could coax him out. It would certainly make mornings more bearable than this awkward one had been. 

Eggsy met Harry’s eyes again -- such a smooth brown, like honeyed chocolate -- and suddenly grinned, feeling a bit less awkward. He leaned forward and playfully kissed his nose before dropping his hand and standing up. "We'll see, guv. Now I'm ready to get my shit whenever you are, unless you just want to send me off to get it myself. I could really use some of my clothes and a nice, long shower," he sighed wistfully. 

Harry suddenly found his nose assaulted by Eggsy's lips, but he couldn't even be upset about it. Eggsy, it seemed, was one for touch. Much as Harry might not have liked it himself, he didn't want to make the younger man's stay with him more miserable than it already would be. Besides, he was certain he could learn to relax in a matter of weeks; he just hoped it didn't affect anything adversely. He still needed to be as ruthless as he already was. Eggsy couldn't be allowed to change that, even if it meant retaining some distance. 

"It's probably best if I put in some hours at the office today. My boss has given me a bit of flexibility with my schedule for the next week, but I can't let everything go neglected," Harry told him with a slight shrug. "If you need help, just call me, and I'll come around. And you can take the car, if you like," he offered, knowing it was a poor attempt at making up for everything. 

"Nah, I should be alright," Eggsy started to say, but as soon as the car was mentioned, his eyes widened and brightened. Dangling that in front of him was as surefire a way as ever to brighten him right up. He'd nearly forgotten about the car. His whole day brightened up a bit at the thought of his new itinerary: driving that hot slice of car, grabbing the stuff he'd gathered at his flat, exploring the house a bit more and finding a place to set up his PS3, long shower, warm clothes, and no chance of an agitated Dean bursting through the door at any moment. That sounded absolutely amazing.

"Anyone ever tell you the way to a chav's heart is through his love of cars?" Eggsy grinned, and ruffled up his hair as he spoke. "Alright then, I won't keep you. Go on to your office, nice day and all that. Don't forget I'll be here when you get back and accidentally attack me or something," he snickered, his posture relaxed, calm again.

Harry would have protested, but he wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't try and attack Eggsy when he returned. "I promise to at least try and remember you're going to be here," he said with a small smile. He hunted down the keys for the car, turning them over to Eggsy. "And what happens if you wreck it?" he prompted. 

"Three more take its place? It will become more powerful than I can possibly imagine?" Eggsy grinned, taking the keys. "Yeah, yeah, won't get another, I know. I'll be careful, keep my eye out for foxes." He smirked, shifting his weight to one foot.

Damn, he'd be looking good. Stubble, suit with open top buttons and no tie, driving an Aventador with some Dizzee Rascal... He'd do him.

Rolling his eyes at Eggsy's list of hypotheticals, Harry half-jokingly reached his hand back out to take the keys until he said the correct one. "If you would be so kind," he said dryly. "I might not be home until quite late, so you might not want to stay up for me," he warned.  

"Thanks for the heads up." Eggsy smiled pleasantly, not put off. Honestly he'd expected as much, even the day after their wedding. He had fairly low expectations, not in a mean way, just out of realism. "But I'll probably be up anyway. I'll see you later, Harry," he said with his happy smile.

"Goodbye, Eggsy," Harry said. He looked over at him one last time before heading out the door and to the street. With Eggsy taking the car he had to resort to taking a cab to work. What a shame. 

-

For the first time in a while, Eggsy had a really, honest to God, truly real, good fucking day. It was everything he hoped it would be. Harry had left him with only the suit he had worn at their wedding and the keys to his car, which was perfectly lovely and acceptable, but meant he really didn't have much, if any, money to spare just yet. After Harry had left, he followed suit almost immediately. Before anything else, he needed his phone. He was 24, he needed that. 

Honestly, Eggsy dawdled on the car quite a bit. When Harry wasn't there, he had no qualms taking his time admiring the whole thing. It was only 8 in the morning; he needed to kill an hour before his mother would be up, anyway. He spent that hour running his fingers along the car's body, the interior, fiddling with its settings and sending far too many Snapchats and pictures to his friends with sunglasses on even though he was still in the driveway. He had never been in love before, but he was pretty sure it felt a lot like how he felt for this car.

The drive over was slower than Eggsy’s usual driving style -- he actually obeyed the speed limit out of respect for Harry's rule -- but he still rolled down the windows and played his music, his arm dangling out lazily. 

When he pulled up next to a young woman driving herself to work, he tilted his sunglasses down and gave her a wink. She giggled and waved at him as they drove away from each other. Damn, this car felt good. 

The stop at his mum's took longer than he had anticipated. He felt anxious leaving the car alone, knowing his neighborhood as he did, so he had to cut her off after about an hour of visiting, gathering his things. With her help, Eggsy loaded up the five boxes of his belongings -- at least one of them was nothing but shoes -- into the car, and he returned to the house by 11. 

The next few hours were very relaxing. 

Eggsy took a long shower with his music playing from the dock he’d set up on the bathroom sink, and his washing and styling and shaving were all accompanied by loud, yet surprisingly good, singing. He changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt as he didn't planned on going out again, and began setting up some of his things in places. 

The debate as to whether to fix up the guest room as his own or to treat it as temporary waged back and forth in his mind, and Eggsy never came to a proper conclusion. On the one hand, Harry seemed weird about touching. Eggsy couldn't really imagine that they would get to the point of sharing a bed any time soon, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to. On the other, they were married. He probably shouldn't rule anything out on his second day there. He ended up at a middle ground, setting up a power strip so he could plug in his phone and have his iDock clock and vape plug in all at once and his clothing put away in the drawers, but he left the walls alone, his football pennants and posters still in a box at the foot of his bed. The picture of his father in the Marines as well as a photo of he, his mother, and Daisy were set on either end of his dresser, and his collection of shoes kept in their boxes and lining one of the walls. 

That still left two boxes of belongings, a number that frankly surprised him. Eggsy hadn't thought he owned that much. He made his way to the living room and poked around for a bit, finding where everything was. Harry, it seemed, didn't own a whole lot of movies. Or much of anything, really. Books, sure, but Eggsy's movie collection was probably more extensive than that. 

Pulling out his PS3 and its cords and games, Eggsy spent about an hour getting things put away, the PS3 set up properly, which took a text to Harry asking what the wifi password was so he could get his Netflix and PSN back up and running, his games organized, and everything attuned to the TV.

By then, Eggsy was hungry. He took the opportunity to poke around the kitchen, start learning where things were in the many cabinets and drawers. Back at the flat, when there was cooking done, it had always been his mother. Maybe now that Eggsy was on his own with a mostly absentee husband, he could seize the chance to learn how to cook things beyond mac and cheese and frozen dinners. That thought was intriguing, and he made a mental note to go to the grocery and see what simple things he could learn to make. 

Lunch was a sandwich made out of whatever Eggsy found in there: mayo, cheese, ham, lettuce, a tomato he cut up and refrigerated what was leftover. He felt rather accomplished, finding his way around so far that day. The house didn't feel like home yet of course, but it was starting to feel less imposing when he could walk into the kitchen and grab a glass on the first try.

Most of the rest of the day, Eggsy was in the living room. He took out his favourite blanket and set it on the couch for him to sit on, plugged in his headset with his microphone, and turned on Saint's Row 3. It was easy for him to lose hours playing games with intermittent texting, and the sun had fallen completely by the time he looked up. He got up, grabbed his tortoise shell, horn-rimmed, circular glasses and popped those on so his eyes wouldn't hurt so much from staring at the screen for hours on end. His stomach was starting to growl a little bit, but he ignored it. Saint's Row was far more important, clearly. 

Meanwhile, Harry spent a few hours actually working at the real estate/stock business Eggsy thought was his legitimate job. And it was. In a way. Years ago, Kingsman had realized the potential of planting agents in jobs that could be beneficial in various ways to their agency and had taken to installing them within the companies. 

Tristan's position in the RAF had given them access to as many jets as they needed, even if it did cut down on the number of missions he could take. 

They had several tailors, weapons designers, pet shop managers, and other various positions that had proven themselves useful. Naturally, Harry got stuck with one of the desk jobs. He didn't necessarily mind; he was willing to go to quite a few lengths for Kingsman, i.e. marriage, and sitting in a cubicle for eight hours a day was a small sacrifice to make for his country. Besides, he'd helped scout out territory for temporary branches of Kingsman, keep places clear when they needed to be, and he guided the extra income from the stock markets towards whatever was most urgent at the time. 

In other words, Harry was bored out of his skull for eight hours and driven by pure adrenaline for the other sixteen. His mission tonight didn't seem to be anything too difficult, however: just slipping a sedative into the drink of a certain foreign minister at a high-end dinner. Perhaps he would be able to get home at a reasonable hour after all. 

Things went tits up when he was trying to make his way out, and the minister faceplanted into his soup. Everyone was held under suspicion, and apparently trying to crawl out of the fourth-floor loo window counted as suspicious. Harry managed to make his escape, of course, but it unfortunately included dropping said four stories to the ground below which was appreciated neither by his ankles nor by his knees. His right ankle seemed to take particular offense, twisting underneath him and causing him to limp rather than run towards the extraction car Merlin had sent for him. 

Miraculously, he reached it, shutting himself inside and propping his foot up as the car sped off. Teeth gritted, he rolled up the leg of his trouser to see the ankle had already started swelling, a slight discoloration promising one hell of a bruise. This was going to be a bitch to explain. 

By the time Harry had finished his mission debriefing and gotten what little treatment he was willing to sit through, it was 2:45 A.M. and he was holding out hope that Eggsy would, in fact, be asleep. He unlocked the door as silently as he could, tip-toeing into the house and trying his best not to limp too obviously. 

By 2:45, Eggsy had fallen asleep on the couch. His headphones were set nicely on the ground with the controller in the middle of them, so he hadn't fallen asleep in the middle of a game, but the console had turned off on its own, and the TV still glowed with a light displaying 'no signal', illuminating where he was flopped over. His glasses were still on his face and everything as he lay with his arm flopped limply over the armrest, his head resting on his arm, and the blanket tangled up in the confusion of his legs.

Harry made sure to keep quiet even as he limped his way up the stairs, only glancing over at Eggsy long enough to ascertain he was both asleep and not actually an intruder who'd managed to break in. 

-

The morning didn't prove to be quite as easy. Harry’s ankle bore his weight well enough for him to almost forget he'd done anything to it... until he was halfway down the stairs. "Shit," he hissed, grabbing for the railings a second too late. He skidded down a couple of them before he managed to halt himself, a resounding thump echoing through the house as he nearly yanked the banister out of the wall. His teeth sank into his bottom lip as his ankle, and now his shoulder, shrieked their protestation at the rough treatment. 

When Eggsy woke up in the morning, it was to the sound of movement. He had been too deeply asleep the previous night to be woken, apparently, but as dawn came, a sudden sound startled him awake. Whatever it was, he sat upright in his mild panic, heart racing, and pulled off his glasses which had gone lop-sided in the night.

Eggsy's panic didn't lessen when he realized what the cause of the noise was. He hopped up, his leg grumbling in protest from having been slept on funny all night, and he tried to navigate the dark room as best he could with his eyes not yet adjusted and not quite remembering the layout to begin with. He wanted to call out, but his voice caught in his throat. The sound had obviously come from the stairs, so he made his way over, carefully, mostly due to the pins and needles shooting up his left leg. "... Harry?"

Head whipping up, Harry struggled to pull himself back to his feet before Eggsy could get over to him and see him sprawled out on the stairs. "I'm fine, Eggsy, everything's alright," he said through gritted teeth, praying that his voice would stay at least somewhat steady. It did, and he even managed to get himself up with only a slight grimace, though he was a bit wobbly. Too wobbly to let go of the railing, at any rate. 

Eggsy paused then, stopping a few paces away from the base of the stairs and peering up into the dark with curious concern. "You just about gave me a heart attack, mate," he said, keeping his voice low, though he wasn't certain why. "Mornings suck before caffeine, eh? Do you need help? Sounded like a nasty tumble."

"I said I was fine, Eggsy," Harry snapped. He didn’t mean to sound so curt, but defensiveness and desperation not to get turned him waspish. Harry stayed where he was, not daring to try and venture further down the stairs until Eggsy was standing somewhere other than the bottom of the staircase.

At the snap, Eggsy wrinkled his nose and shrugged to himself in the dark, leaving it at that. He moved away again, back to the living room he’d come from, and sat down on the blanket. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes, trying to decide if he should fall back asleep or get up, his heartbeat finally dying down.

Harry waited a moment, but he didn't hear anything for a while. Figuring Eggsy had to have moved by that point, he cautiously started back down, hissing in a breath the first time he put any sort of weight on his injured ankle. A bitch indeed. He should have let medical actually take care of it, he thought, finally making his way down the stairs and limping into the kitchen. 

When Eggsy heard Harry moving around again, he looked over the back of the couch, frowning as he watched him limp. That was either too severe a reaction to slipping down some stairs, or he really fucked up his leg, or knee, or foot, maybe twisting it. He got back up, feeling concerned despite himself, and walked to within eyesight of the kitchen to look at him. He spoke, fully expecting more grumpy snapping but feeling the need to check on Harry anyway. "... What happened to you?"

Harry paused in the middle of reaching up for the kettle, sighing. "I happened to me," he said after a brief pause. "I was getting into a cab after work, and I tripped myself up on the curb," he lied easily, glaring down ruefully at his ankle. "It was supposed to feel better by now," he muttered. "I'm sorry, Eggsy, I didn't mean to wake you."

After a beat of silence, Eggsy nodded, buying the lie. He sat one of the chairs set up at the table, propping his face up with his palm and leaning on it for support. "You should get it looked at today, bruv. You might've twisted it, or sprained it or something, if 's that bad." He frowned, looking at Harry’s ankle through sleepy eyes.

While Harry was inclined to agree with him, he really didn't want to have to sit through the medics telling him he should be taking care of himself. "I've some Ace bandages in a med kit upstairs," he muttered, retrieving the kettle. "I'll bind it up once I've had some tea." 

"Where's the kit?" Eggsy asked as he stood, glancing over his shoulder to the stairway. Obviously he wasn't letting Harry use the stairs more than necessary, and while they didn't have a relationship strong enough to justify insisting on medical attention, the least Eggsy could do was get bandages for him while he made himself tea, save him a trip. That limp looked painful. Maybe some Acetaminophen.

The kit was upstairs in the linen closet, but what Harry hadn't mentioned was that he had a small arsenal of medical supplies packed in there with it. "No, don't worry. I'll get it in a moment," he assured Eggsy, filling up the kettle and setting it to boil.

".... You fell down the stairs just ten minutes ago. Till you're bandaged up, you shouldn’t be climbing up with a bum leg, guv," Eggsy frowned. He didn’t move towards the stairs, but he didn’t sit down either. 

Harry opened his mouth to make an excuse that he really didn't have. "Upstairs linen closet," he finally muttered. 

"Right then. Back in a mo." Eggsy walked into the hall and up the stairs, holding tight to the railing as he ascended, just out of subconscious precaution after seeing Harry's tumble. 

“Linen closet” didn't give him much to go on, having not thoroughly explored the upstairs floor beyond his bedroom the day before, but there were only so many doors up there. Eggsy found what he was looking for on the third try. 

Eggsy had expected towels, a few bathroom and bedroom supplies, the med kit, and maybe something like an ironing board. Eggsy had not expected the mini-clinic that was practically bursting out of the door when he opened it. A wheelchair was folded up in the back, as were a pair of crutches. The bottom-most shelf was stuffed with an unnecessary amount of replacement sheets for a man who lived alone. The next two shelves up put spice racks to shame with the sheer amount of bottles and their organization, by what they did and then by name. 

Eggsy couldn't recognize or even pronounce a good deal of them, but he definitely recognized pain relievers, both over the counter and heavy prescription, burn cream, aloe vera, adrenaline shots, antibiotics, and just about every medication he had ever taken.

After floundering for a moment, Eggsy reached up to the fourth shelf which held three kits. He pulled down and snapped it open. Immediately, he realized it was not the right case. This one, when unfolded, had tweezers, needles, local anesthetics, empty syringes, small bottles filled with liquids clearly for the syringes, and the rubber of a tourniquet stuck out from the small section he hadn't unfolded. " _ Christ _ , Harry," he said, rubbing his head with the heel of his palm. "Either you're sick as hell, a black market nurse, or you got some real weird medical fascination..." Eggsy shook his head, tucking the case back in its proper place. "Note to self, might be married to Doctor House meets Hannibal Lecter."

The second case seemed to be right. It was fitted for minor injuries, stuffed with Ace bandages and wraps, small braces for wrists, ankles, and knees that would be snug under clothing, regular and butterfly bandaids, neosporin, more than double what his mother had in her medical kit a home. He pulled out an unopened package of the Ace bandages Harry had mentioned and packed the rest up, replacing it on the shelf. 

The last case still sat there, and Eggsy felt both a curiosity and a large desire to not look into it. He left it alone, and grabbed a small bottle of Acetaminophen. If Harry refused it, Eggsy would certainly be taking some.

Eggsy closed up the closet again and padded back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once he returned to the kitchen, he set the box on the table along with the bottle, and went to grab himself a glass for some water.

Harry had busied himself making the tea, and tried not to think about just what Eggsy was going to find in that upstairs closet. He was certain he could have made it up there -- he'd dealt with far worse pain, after all -- but refusing Eggsy's help might have been just as suspicious and without the added benefit of not having to haul himself up there. So he waited for the water to boil and tapped his fingers absently on the counter. 

By the time Eggsy returned with the kit, the tea was ready, and Harry was sitting at the table with his foot propped up on one of the empty chairs. "Thank you, Eggsy," he said quietly. He reached for the kit and fished out the Ace bandages. 

Momentarily abandoning his tea, Harry wrapped his ankle with a practiced ease, getting to his feet to test it out after he'd snapped the clasp on. He set his foot down experimentally. It still hurt, but not nearly as badly as before, and he could walk on it without much of a limp.

Figuring he might as well really put it to the test, Harry packed the kit back up and headed for the stairs, moving to put it away. 

Eggsy said nothing, only humming in acknowledgment when he was thanked. He popped back two of the pills and drained his glass of water, leaning on the counter in what was becoming a usual morning position for him. That closet tugged at him, shifting his concern for Harry's well-being to just concern over his general being. 

Who was Eggsy married to? Clearly he still had no idea. And if last night's complete absence was the average, he wouldn't find out for years. The contents of that closet were disconcerting, but he was going to keep it to himself for now. No use confronting Harry and picking a fight over nothing. 

But maybe he'd have a word with Dean soon, figure out what the hell his warning had been about and if it had anything to do with the small hospital in the upstairs linen closet. 

Harry handled the first step fine, and the second, and the third, so he figured he was okay to go all the way up. He made it to the top without incident and steadily limped his way over to the closet, opening the door and grimacing. 

It was as well-stocked as it had ever been, and he wondered just what Eggsy had thought of that. He hadn't said anything, but that didn't mean he wasn't thinking about it. Mentally cursing, Harry immediately started considering a pack of lies he could spit out if prompted. At least he'd had practice with that sort of thing. 

The trip back down was slightly more intimidating, as it had been going down that had messed him up in the first place. Harry took the stairs one at a time, placing both feet on each step before moving down to the next one. By the time he actually made it back to the kitchen, his tea had gone cold, and he sighed as he drained it down the sink. "I'm off to work. If you need me for anything at all, don't hesitate to call me." 

"Yeah, alright." Eggsy pulled himself back from his train of thought, literally shaking his head once to do so. "Have a good day, then. And be careful climbing into cabs," he added with a faint smirk, tilting his head just so as he looked at Harry from where he was leaning. 

Eggsy didn't ask when he'd be back; he was already counting on him being gone well into the night, past when he usually fell asleep. Seemed Harry hadn't been exaggerating when he had warned him as much. Well, plenty of time for further exploration of the house, though Eggsy wasn't sure he wanted to know whatever it was Harry was clearly keeping from him, car driving, friend seeing, possible interrogating. He was sure he'd be fine without Harry.

For a split second, Harry was confused, until he remembered the story he'd fed Eggsy. "Not to worry. I'll be looking out for curbs this time," he assured him with a not-quite-real smile. He was halfway out of the kitchen when he paused to look back. "And I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. I shouldn't have done that." 

This time Eggsy blinked in confusion. He'd been snapped at a lot; this was probably the fourth time ever he'd been apologized to for it. He had to mentally buffer for a second, his face blank. "... Oh, that. Heh. It's fine. See you, Har." He mirrored the not-quite-real smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Har..." Harry muttered to himself, rolling his eyes as he backed out of the kitchen and headed out the door. 

Eggsy let him go, smiling a bitter smile to himself as he heard the front door slam shut. 


	6. A Prank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I had timed this right, I would have posted the wedding chapter today, the day of bilboswaggins' actual wedding.

Eggsy stayed there for some time afterward, waiting for when he was sure Harry was gone. 

He liked Harry, he genuinely did. One of the versions of him, anyway. The one he'd been talking to the last two days was okay too. Not awful, not wonderful. Stilted conversation, snapping, not-quite-real smiles. It was better than being struck every few days, Eggsy supposed. But it still raised the rather pressing problem of his not knowing who Harry really was. There was something he was missing.

At the same time, Eggsy couldn't bring himself to push it. He was burning with curiosity and with apprehension as to how a fully stocked medical closet and a warning to stay on his good side fit together, what pieces he was missing to understand why that was, and why he didn't really feel like he was in danger even with all of that. 

But if he pushed it, it might all fall apart. He would be lied to, he knew that much. If Harry hadn't told him already, he most likely wouldn't for a while. They would fight, and Eggsy didn't want that either. He knew his own personal fault of snapping and saying things he didn't mean out of anger. If he was lied to, he would be angry, he would say bad things, and this would fall apart.

Eggsy was also a damn hypocrite. He  _ had  _ jacked a car once in addition to crashing one, though he did indeed swear off it since. Getting the shit kicked out of him instead of jail was enough of a reminder to stay away from that. He had been dealing drugs and shoplifting and sold himself once or twice, nothing he was particularly proud of. As much as he wanted to know Harry's secrets, he didn't want him to know his. 

For now, Eggsy was going to leave it in limbo. He'd fucked up enough in his life; he didn't need to fuck this up too.

Eggsy frowned, rubbing his head. No. He wouldn't go to Dean today. He didn't want to see him, and he didn't want to know yet. So today was another simple day. Texting his friends, playing online, resisting the urge to go back up to that closet and poke around. 

Occasionally, the image of Harry limping about popped into his head as he looked at things around the house. After he'd had his lunch at around 2 P.M., he sent him a text message. 

_ hey. are u doing any better? _

Eggsy only half-expected a response, thinking maybe Harry would screen him like he'd done when he texted him before they had gotten married.

-

Harry found himself distracted as he analyzed the latest patterns of bond growth, not an unusual state of things when he was in the office. Given the excitement of his second -- or, really, only -- job, containing himself inside a cubicle for hours on end always proved itself an arduous task. Today, however, it was not just the mundane banality of the everyday stock market that drive him to distraction, but rather thoughts of Eggsy. 

His husband. His Eggsy, by extension. The Eggsy that had woken up to find him sprawled on the stairs and limping after a night away and had seen the small clinic he'd converted his closet into over the years. Harry had convinced himself that he would be able to keep Kingsman a secret from Eggsy, and Merlin had thought the same, or the approval for their marriage never would have cleared. Or, well, it might have cleared, but Harry’s involvement with the service would have been limited. Still could be, he supposed. The thought of that was hardly appealing. He'd given his life to the agency, and he had no plans to change that. 

At the rate things were going, however, Eggsy would stumble into his secrets by the end of the month, if not sooner. 

Sighing, Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. He would have to be more cautious, that was certain. No more ill-explained injuries or closets stuffed with medical supplies. God help him if the younger man found his weapons collection. Long sleeves and closed collars would do to cover the myriad of scars patterning his body, which also took sex off the table. He tried to pretend he wasn't entirely disappointed about that. Business trips would serve as sufficient explanations for long-term and foreign missions. 

Breathing in slowly through his nose, Harry nodded once to himself. He could do this. Nothing had to change. At least in terms of his availability to Kingsman. 

A few hours later, the quiet chirp of his phone pulled him away from the work he'd finally settled down to.

_ hey. are u doing any better? _

_ Haven't moved all day. Ankle is grateful. -HH _

When Eggsy's phone went off again, he glanced down at it automatically, realizing a split second later that the chime wasn't the usual one he was waiting for. He took a second to focus on the message, and blinked at it. 

After his mission ended in his game, he sent off another message, texting quickly with a mild smirk on his face. He replaced the phone on the side table and fixed his headphones again, jumping back into the game as he still didn’t expect much of a response. 

_ good. tho do u seriously sign ur text messages? _

Harry had had just enough time to reabsorb himself into his work when his phone lit up again, signaling another text. He snorted at the response. 

_ I do. Do you have a problem with that? -HH _

Eggsy answered more quickly this time, snickering and taking a screenshot. Really, honestly. He was approaching 50, not 90. 

_....yes. i know who u are u dont have to sign it  _

_ It's a habit. And I quite like doing it, thank you very much. -HH _

_ u know that reads the same as a telegram right? happy ur feeling better STOP dont work too long tonight im thinking of raiding ur food to make biscuits i may eat them all STOP _

_ Save at least one for me, if you wouldn't mind STOP -HH _

_ if u take me to meet any of ur people im telling everyone ur a dork. _

Eggsy snickered to himself and logged out of his game, pocketing his phone as he stood. Originally he had come up with that excuse to tease Harry, but it sounded like a good plan honestly. He lived here now, why not try and make biscuits? He could eat a good deal of them as his dinner even, take that mum and give some to his mother and Daisy, even leave some for Harry when he got home late. Not a bad way to kill some time in a way other than video games. 

Eggsy rolled up imaginary sleeves and plunged into the kitchen to see if he could actually pull that off.

_ It appears you will not be meeting any of 'my people' then. -HH _

Harry waited a bit for a reply but, when nothing was forthcoming, admitted that he couldn't put work off any longer. He was already a bit behind what with all the wandering his mind had been doing that day. Not that the company would much care. He'd been a good employee, and he was allowed to have an off day every now and then. But it wounded his personal pride a bit, and he set back to it much more willingly. 

Eggsy did indeed spend a good portion of the rest of his day trying to make those biscuits. Turned out Harry had everything to make them but the chocolate chips themselves. And so, with a heavy heart, Eggsy resolved to take the car to go get them. 

The trip took 30 minutes longer than necessary. Eggsy may have taken the long route.

He wasn't used to cooking, strictly speaking, but he'd been with his mother when she'd made them when he was younger, and a surprising amount of information was coming back to him. He made and nibbled on the dough, dropped dough balls onto a cookie sheet with parchment paper -- if Eggsy was going to do it, he was going to do it well -- and eagerly checked on them every few minutes to make sure he caught them when they were done, but still wonderfully gooey. 

When he deemed the first batch acceptable, he put them on a cooling rack and started the second. He promptly began both eating them and spamming his friends with pictures of his accomplishment. They really did look good, if a bit messy. 

Eggsy even took a photo of a plateful and sent it off to Harry with a heart emoji attached, because why not? Once everything was done, he began the process of cleaning up. 

-

Diligent would have been a good word to describe Harry. Eggsy's texts hadn't seemed to indicate that anything was off, certainly not that he'd stumbled across anything he wasn't supposed to have seen. Thus reassured, he was able to devote himself completely to the task at hand. Even if the task at hand was just a bunch of statistics to figure out whether or not increase or decrease their investment.

He'd just settled on increase when his phone alerted him again, and he glanced over at it. He smiled down at the picture.

_ Is the heart for me or the cookies? -HH _

_ you. to soften the blow of how much ur missing rn _

Eggsy snickered to himself, and had he a better idea of how it would go over with Harry, he would have stripped down and posed shirtless with them or something to further tease him, since he didn't really have any qualms with it and it was his idea of humour. But as he didn't know, he refrained.

Harry glanced around casually, noting the absence of any form of management. Quickly, he took a picture of the scrap paper he'd been using for his calculations with his hand taking up most of the screen, middle finger extended. He sent it off with its own heart emoji. 

_ I felt I should return the favor. -HH _

When Eggsy checked his phone, he laughed out loud. That was unexpected to say the least. Another screenshot; he wanted to keep a record of these. He responded with a grin on his face.

_ aw for me? well there go ur biscuits. very rude. _

_ The heart was for you, the finger for the forms. And that's nonsense. I am, first and foremost, a gentleman, and gentlemen are never rude. -HH _

Attached came a photo of several of the biscuits on a plate.

_ forgive me. these are for u, gentleman u are. _

_ Thank you, Eggsy. -HH _

Sometimes, Eggsy almost made him feel bad about constantly lying to him. Not enough to stop, obviously. But enough to prick at Harry’s conscience.

Eggsy let the conversation die at that point. He did indeed save some biscuits for Harry on a plate under some tinfoil he found and left them on the table for him. After that, it was right back to video games, with as much enthusiasm as ever. It was certainly working in his subconscious endeavor to avoid thinking about his situation and the rapidly more apparent situation within the situation. Namely, the closet still calling his name from upstairs. With headphones on and Assassin's Creed now on the tv, it was working to drown it out.

Harry spent most of the rest of his day arguing with himself over just how bad of an idea telling Eggsy was, ranging from extremely to monumentally. Try as he might, there just wasn't a way to reconcile telling him. The only purpose it would serve would be to make Harry's life a little easier, and it had never been easy in the first place. He wasn't going to start complaining about it now. 

Eventually, Harry’s normal work day finished, and his true job began, though Merlin wouldn't let him out into the field with the ankle. Stuck at his desk doing paperwork for the second time that day, he found himself itching to actually go home, an unusual sensation. At least Eggsy was better company than files. 

-

Eggsy didn't miss his flat much. He had way more space in Harry’s house, more chance to spread out and not be cramped in one of two positions in his bedroom all the time. There was food here. He hadn't checked it out yet, but by the box there must be telly, he had a car to get around places, which was infinitely better than walking or hitching rides; he would have been incredibly grateful had it been an old thing. It only made it better that it was a Lamb. But Eggsy was starting to miss the company a bit. Daisy toddling in and sitting in his lap, his mother babbling about something he wasn't particularly listening to. Here he had his video games, his phone's playlists, and the occasional creaking as wind hit the house or the heater clicked on. It was almost unsettling, the quiet. He wondered if Harry liked dogs.

Yesterday had been recovering, mostly. Getting back in his head after the wedding and adjusting to the house had left Eggsy pretty tired at the end of it, and he’d conked out relatively early, about midnight.

Today he saw himself staying up purposefully, and with nothing to do, he could probably sleep in a bit, even if that did mean missing what little of Harry he got to see. And, he mentally added as he cracked his neck, probably sleeping in an actual bed this time would be good.

After spending more time sighing to Merlin about the work he had to do instead of actually doing it, Harry decided to just give up. He'd gotten most of it done anyways, and the rest could be put off till the next day when, as Merlin assured him, he'd still have plenty of time to do it given the state of his ankle. 

Grumbling, Harry checked his watch as he made his way out to the waiting cab. He was surprised to see that it wasn't as late as he’d thought it would be. 12:45 was a few hours earlier than when he usually managed to make his way back home. Eggsy might even be up, though Harry didn't know whether that would be more of a good thing or a bad thing. 

It didn't take long for him to find out, however, as he was soon unlocking the door and making his way inside, the smell of biscuits sweeping over him and making his mouth water. 

Thanks to the high quality, total ear encompassing headphones he was wearing, Eggsy didn't hear the door or the footsteps. It also didn't help that he was so very engrossed in the mission at hand -- the stealth assassination missions were always lots of fun for him, especially once he got the berserk dart and could play around with the NPCs -- and he wasn't really paying attention to anything outside the scope of the television. Eggsy had migrated to the floor, the blanket he usually sat on wrapped around his shoulders with his legs crossed as he sat with his back to the couch, leaning forward, glasses on, tongue sticking out of his lips in concentration.

The glow of the television let Harry know Eggsy wasn't sleeping. He glanced over at the younger man and saw him staring intently at the screen, fully absorbed in whatever game he was playing. Chuckling softly to himself, he walked lightly into the kitchen, looking back over his shoulder every once in a while to make sure he hadn't been spotted. 

He found the plate of biscuits and reached for one before pausing, eyes sliding slowly back over in Eggsy's direction. Quickly, he found a small, plastic bag and sealed the biscuits up inside, tucking it into the front of his suit jacket. Ever careful, he sneaked back out of the house, easing the door closed even if that probably wasn't necessary. He tugged his phone out when he was back out front. 

_ Almost home. Looking forward to those biscuits of yours. -HH _

Real life, that was something Eggsy could tune right out. But, in proper 24-year-old fashion, he had his phone in his lap within arm's reach at all times, and he glanced down once it vibrated. He paused the game to read the message, smirking to himself in self-satisfaction. 

_ ill be up this time. they're waiting for u _

Harry leaned back against the front door to let a few minutes pass, make it seem convincing. Once he'd waited a sufficient amount of time, he swung the door open and pulled it shut harder than usual, making no attempt to be quiet this time as he walked into the house. 

Now, as he was anticipating someone walking in, Eggsy heard him. He paused the game and took off his headphones, pulling his glasses off his face and folding them up as he looked for him over his shoulder with a lazy grin. "Hey, long time no see," he hummed.

Harry reached up to tap his own glasses, head tilting slightly to one side. "I didn't know you wore glasses," he said lightly, pausing to have the conversation. If he seemed too eager to get to the kitchen, the whole thing would be ruined. Harry could be a patient man when he wanted to be.

"Don't usually," Eggsy said, shrugging off the blanket and standing up. "Only when I'm reading or my eyes hurt. Telly all day does that to you," Eggsy grinned, setting said glasses on the side table where he wouldn't accidentally step on them.

"Is this what you've been doing _ all  _ day, then?" Harry asked with a skeptically raised eyebrow. He ran a critical eye over the setup before looking back at Eggsy with the shadow of a smile on his face. "Minus the portion of it when you were baking, of course," he added, turning towards the kitchen.

"...pretty much, yeah," Eggsy snickered, shameless at his obvious do-nothing. Though when the baking was mentioned, he puffed up proudly and nodded, rounding about the couch to join Harry in the kitchen. "Baking went well and all. You should try one of yours before you go off for bed. They ain't warm, but they’re never the same after the first day, really." He leaned on the counter in the same place he had been that morning, head slightly tilted and grinning, almost like an excited puppy.

Harry nodded. "I suppose I could have one, warm or not." He looked around the counter, brow furrowing slightly. "Where did you put them?"

"Just th-" Eggsy blinked, gesturing to where the plate was, but paused when he noticed it was empty. "What?" Confused, he got up, staring blankly at the plate.

Harry's eyebrows rose slightly as he glanced over at the empty plate, and he looked back at Eggsy a bit skeptically. "I’d hoped you were kidding when you said you were going to eat them all," he said dryly. 

"I was!" Eggsy said indignantly, gesturing helplessly to the plate. "Saved four or five of them!" He even picked up the plate, looking under it and around, like they might have fallen or been knocked over. "... They was right here, swear down!" he huffed, sulking.

Harry pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at the sight of Eggsy frantically lifting the plate to check underneath it for the errant treats. "Perhaps someone snuck in and stole them while I was out." 

Eggsy blinked, and, though he didn't believe that could possibly be true, he couldn't help his eyes flicking towards the front door. "That definitely didn't happen. Probably. Most likely." He glanced at the window in the kitchen too, but again, he didn't believe it. But what the  _ fuck _ could have happened to them? He definitely didn't eat them and forget, right? 

"I would like to argue that it did, in fact, happen," Harry said mildly. 

"Nah, nah," Eggsy insisted, though he was looking more baffled by the minute, turning around on his heels and looking all about the kitchen in dismay. "I was right there, I'd've heard!"

Harry shook his head, reaching into his suit jacket to pull out the small bag he'd stuffed the biscuits in. "No," he said, lips spreading upwards in a slow, amused smile. "I don't think you would have." 

As soon as he heard movement, Eggsy whipped around, his eyes focused on the bag. It took a moment, a second of processing wherein his face was totally blank, and then he was laughing, shaking his head. "You fucking prick," he laughed, grabbing the hand towel within arm's reach on the counter and flinging it at Harry’s chest. 

Reflexively, Harry's hand shot up to catch the towel, stopping it before it slapped against his chest. "If some criminal had actually come in here and stolen these biscuits, I would have been rather upset," he deadpanned. 

Eggsy's laugh faded to a smirk, and he stood with his hands on his hips. Impressive reflexes, those. "I couldn't blame them, they're pretty worth it." He wasn't all that bothered by the fact that he’d completely missed Harry's entry and exit; the likelihood of someone actually breaking in was very low. Instead, he was more impressed that Harry had managed to sneak in and out for the sake of a mild prank on him. One which he’d completely, absolutely fallen for.

Harry set the bag down on the counter, turning his attention to the dish towel which he carefully folded and placed back where it belonged. Then he decided he should test out Eggsy's boastful claim, opening up the package and pulling one of the biscuits out. He raised it to his lips before pausing, giving Eggsy a dubious look. "You looked under a plate for these," he reminded him before taking a bite. 

"Oi, it's late, and I was genuinely confused," Eggsy snickered, dropping his hands to his sides. "Can't be blamed for checking places."

Rolling his eyes, Harry cautiously took a bite. He wasn't acquainted with Eggsy's culinary skills in any form, whether baking or cooking, and he was a little afraid he was going to have pretend to like them. But, to his mild surprise, they had actually been made with some amount of skill. "You were right. These are good." 

Eggsy couldn't help feeling at least a little pleased. He'd made them mostly as a time filler, and a stomach filler. Once he’d mentioned them, he had started craving them. Harry's approval wasn't necessary, but he did like having it. "Not a bad start, eh? Biscuits are the foundation, I've heard," he smirked.

"Foundation for what, exactly?" Harry asked, glancing up at him. 

"Foundation to learning how to do anything. I don't know a lot of cooking stuff, mostly Mac and Cheese and microwave meals, you know. So biscuits, good start,” Eggsy hummed, shrugging.

Harry held the cookie between his lips to free up his hands as he walked over to one of the overhead cabinets. It took a bit of rummaging, but before long he'd pulled out a massive cookbook and set it down on the counter. "I can teach you, if you'd like to learn," he offered, going back to the plate of biscuits.

Curiously, Eggsy edged over to the book, peering at it once Harry stepped far enough back. An interesting thought that he hadn't really honestly considered, but a good idea. He should probably learn how to be a person who subsisted on more than junk. "Yeah," he agreed, giving an easy half-smile. "I would."

"The next time I have a day off," which would be in approximately never, "we'll make something. Whatever you like," Harry offered. 

Eggsy considered that to be a somewhat empty promise, the sort of thing his mother would have promised him if he behaved for a week when he was a kid. Harry sounded like he worked nearly constantly, and Eggsy couldn't imagine that if he had some spare day he'd want to spend some of it showing his young husband how to cook something. Harry probably had other things he wanted to do. But still, Eggsy appreciated the sentiment, smiling all the same as if he believed it. "Sounds good to me," he hummed, tilting his head as he smiled. Good of Harry to humour him.

Harry offered him a brief smile in return, turning to glance down at the cookbook. His eyes flicked over to the clock. "I realize this might not be the best time for it, but if you'd like to learn something now..." He shrugged. 

When he offered, Eggsy glanced at the clock as well. Sure, it was 1 A.M. But he wasn't tremendously tired. Made no difference to him, and if Harry was offering... "Yeah? I mean, I got a busy schedule of nothing, but I can probably fit something in now," he teased lightly.

Nodding, Harry finished off the biscuit he'd been nibbling on and flipped open the cookbook. "What do you think you'd like to make?" he asked, leafing through the recipes. 

Eggsy hopped up on the counter and sat next to the book, gripping the edge and leaning forward to watch Harry flip through the pages with a smirk on his face. "Anything that ain't nuking a frozen dinner. Depends on how much energy you wanna spend showing me." Absently, one of his legs swung back and forth, eyes going from the book to Harry's face and back again.

Harry caught the movement out of the corner of his eye but didn't comment on it. He ran through a mental list of ingredients that he had in his house, trying to match them up with any of the recipes. "Chicken cordon bleu?" he suggested, glancing up. 

If memory served, that was one of those dishes that seemed nice and fancy, but was really just a combination of meat and cheese that didn't take all that long to assemble. Like a Croque Monsieur, or something. Eggsy only grinned, shrugging a shoulder. "If it sounds good to you, it sounds good to me." 

"Alright," Harry said, turning around and leaning back against the counter. He tilted his head a bit as he glanced over at Eggsy. "Shouldn't you be getting the ingredients?" 

Eggsy snorted, hopped down from the perch he'd made for himself, and threw Harry a look. "Shouldn't  _ you _ be telling me what to get? I got chicken, but far as 'cordon bleu' goes..." He trailed off as he walked backward to the fridge slowly, pulling it open and rummaging around.

Harry glanced down at the recipe. "Salt, black pepper, swiss cheese, ham, and bread crumbs," he rattled off almost automatically. 

As Harry listed them, Eggsy obediently pulled the items from the fridge and set them on the counter. The whereabouts of of the salt and pepper he remembered, as he'd used salt in the biscuits and pepper was never far away. He hesitated when it came to the crumbs but found them after not too long of a search. 

After getting the ingredients out, pretty much every other step of cooking was new to Eggsy, so he looked at Harry, eyebrows raised and expectant with a smile playing at his lips. 

Pushing himself off the counter, Harry made his way to the stove and turned it to 350 so it could preheat. He rummaged through one of the drawers nearby before pulling out a meat tenderizer and hefting it a bit, offering it out to Eggsy. "The chicken has to be flattened." 

"Aye aye," Eggsy agreed readily, taking the tenderizer in hand. He'd never tenderized meat before, but the idea of aggressively smacking it with a hammer sounded fun enough on its own. Eggsy grabbed one of the nice little cutting boards he had seen, delicately laid out the chicken, and promptly began smacking it with the small hammer.

Harry reached for another biscuit as he watched Eggsy go at the meat, a small smile of amusement gracing his face. "That's probably enough," he said after a moment or two, taking a closer look at the beaten chicken. 

When Harry told him he was probably done, Eggsy let up, placing the meat tenderizer mallet in the sink. "That was fun, I'm into beating meat,” he grinned and hummed innocently, standing beside Harry with his hands behind his back and eyebrows raised, looking at him expectantly for further instruction.

Rolling his eyes at the innuendo, Harry chose to ignore it, instead reaching for the salt and handing the pepper to Eggsy. "Now we season it," he explained simply. He poured a bit of salt into his hand before sprinkling it over the chicken. 

Eggsy followed suit with the pepper, imitating him and brushing his shoulder against Harry's, just for a bit of contact. "Know this all by heart then, eh?" He clapped his hands to get the excess pepper off, wiping his hands on his jeans as he spoke. 

Harry just nodded. "This ain't my first rodeo," he said, adopting a Southern drawl and tipping an imaginary cowboy hat. He reached over for a slice of the ham Eggsy had pulled out. "And if you wouldn't mind getting the cheese..." 

"Yes, sir." Snickering, Eggsy once again obeyed, grabbing and sliding over the cheese they had set out. 

Harry repeated the process with the second breast, ramming a toothpick into the first one once Eggsy had decorated it with the cheese. 

Eggsy worked alongside him in pleasant silence, doing as he was told and actually paying attention to what they were doing. He wasn't entirely sure that chicken cordon bleu would be something he would make when he was alone and needed lunch/dinner, but it couldn't hurt to learn it all the same.

It wasn't much longer before they were done with the chicken. Harry slid it into the oven, shooting Eggsy a triumphant smile as he shut the door. "One recipe down, a million to go."

Eggsy grinned back at him, feeling rather accomplished himself, though he hadn’t really done much besides stand next to Harry and grab things. "I'll be making french pastries in no time," he snickered, leaning back against the counter.

"I'm sure you could handle a crepe," Harry said mildly. The pastry was fairly simple and, depending on the choice of filling, could get even easier. 

"Fuck no," Eggsy said, wrinkling his nose. "If you don't have a crepe maker, you gotta pour the batter in a skillet and try to not burn it and shit. I'd try it to have an excuse for nutella and strawberries and end up burning down your kitchen."

Harry pressed his lips together in a mostly unsuccessful attempt at hiding his amusement. "And you don't think you could do that, do you? Batter in a skillet is a bit much for you?"

"Hey, hey, batter in a skillet is hard!" Eggsy huffed in a faux-pout, folding his arms even as he fought a smirk. "It's gotta be thin, and that means it'd burn quick and flipping them's gotta be hard... I don't need your judgement, Harry," he snickered, head tilted.

Folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter, Harry turned a very, very judgmental stare on Eggsy. 

After a moment of stubbornly holding his position, Eggsy snorted, grinning a lazy grin at him. "Oi, I can make biscuits and therefore no one should criticize me," he said, gesturing in a snap with his hand.

Harry's eyes wandered back over to the few biscuits that were left and he conceded the point with a nod. "You do have a point," he admitted, just stopping himself from reaching for another one. He really didn't need it, especially not when it was almost two in the morning. 

Eggsy could infer the urge Harry suppressed; the look of longing was a universal one. He continued to grin, pleased, and let a few seconds of silence pass before speaking again. "So are you gonna stay up and eat chicken cordon bleu with me when it’ done, or are you gonna wrap them up and," he glanced at the clock ticking on the opposite wall, "essentially go and take a nap before it's right back to work?"

Harry pretended to deliberate over that for a second before shrugging. "I think I've left you to eat alone quite a bit these past few days. And I'm not tired," he added on.

"I'd appreciate the company," Eggsy smiled. He didn't mean it accusatorily of course; it had only been a few days, and he had been expecting as much. It was surprising Harry was electing to spend time with him  _ now _ . "How aren't you tired, though? You always only get three hours a night?" 

Shrugging, Harry stifled a yawn. He wasn't exactly young, but working at a desk all day was helping him stay on his feet even this late into the night. "I suppose I'm a bit tired, but I only have more desk work to look forward to, thanks to this," he muttered, glaring down at his traitorous ankle. 

"Can't imagine lots of legwork involved in stocks and real estate anyway. But what do I know?" Eggsy shrugged with a chuckle, also looking at Harry’s ankle. Without him limping about, he'd forgotten he’d even injured it. "How long you gonna be wrapped up for that?"

Harry snorted slightly. "Really, Eggsy? You see no footwork involved in real estate?" he teased gently. "And I'm not sure." 

Merlin had assured him that he would only be on “bedrest” for a few days, but Harry knew better than to trust the magician about things like that. "Hopefully not long." 

"Well, when you say 'stocks and real estate' it sounds like all you do is sit at a desk and look at statistics and graphs all day." Eggsy smirked, letting his ignorance as to his husband's job go without embarrassment. "From the picture you sent me this afternoon, I don't see that I’m wrong. Wanna fill me in then?" 

Harry just shook his head. "It really isn't worth learning about. There's nothing interesting about my job, I'm afraid," he said, offering Eggsy an exaggerated pout. 

If Eggsy actually sat and thought about it, he really was getting lots of different and conflicting information from Harry. But he didn't want to think about it, not now. So he grinned, accepting it. Face value, sounded true enough anyway. "Rain check then. Eventually I'll have to give my mates something more than 'stock and stuff' as your job."

Eyes sharpening slightly, Harry stopped relaxing so comfortably against the counter. "What exactly have you told your friends about me?" he asked, head tilting curiously to one side.

Eggsy shrugged. "Nothing. They saw you at the wedding, haven't really asked much. I don't think I've mentioned you more than telling them you let me borrow your car. Don't come up much." His way of saying 'no, I haven't been gossiping about your small hospital in a closet up there.' As well as it being true, married now or not, Eggsy mostly just texted his friends stupid jokes, memes, and taunts on whatever game they were playing at the time. 

It was comforting to know that Eggsy wasn't running his mouth off about how strange his new husband was, at least. Perhaps he was more trustworthy than Harry had mentally given him credit for. Or perhaps he was just lying through his teeth, and Harry was complacently falling for it. Still, he'd like to believe he could trust Eggsy. To an extent.

"I used to work in a clinic," he said abruptly.

Eggsy nodded as he thought through that answer. He certainly believed Harry had money enough to go to school as long as he liked, no problem there. He supposed maybe this was just one of the manifestations of some secret weirdness that he should come to expect from his new husband, of quirks and interests he was just good at hiding from him for whatever reason. "... So you stuff a closet full of a casual interest, then? Guess that's a good one to have, never a bad thing to have medical shit lying around."

Mentally filing that new fact about himself away so he could remember it later, Harry laughed lightly. "It could have been much worse. I could have been into taxidermy," he said wryly. 

Eggsy wrinkled his nose, imagining coming to the house for the first time in the dead of night and running into all manner of stuffed animals, deer heads on the wall, posed animals he could trip over. Sounded very unpleasant. Though if the same logic applied, he would just have been buried in stuffed animals when he went to grab something from the closet. He definitely got a better draw this way. "Yeah, don't think I'd appreciate death by unexpected dead animals. I prefer closet of syringes," he snickered.

"I only have six or seven syringes; that's hardly a closet full," Harry protested, not even entirely sure he was telling the truth. It had been a long time since he'd convinced himself to use his medical supplies and, if he was being honest, his little at-home clinic was probably in sore need of an update. But a massive influx of new supplies would be pretty damn suspicious, so he'd either have to do it on the down-low or, the more likely option, ignore the problem in favor of pretending it didn't exist. 

"More than any normal closet. Think that counts, bruv," Eggsy grinned, relaxed. It was weird and it was slightly disconcerting, but he could accept the weird habit. Although it did make him curious - he had respectfully avoided Harry's room entirely, giving the man who most likely still viewed him as a friendly stranger some privacy. But what else was there? 

Eggsy had time; maybe once his curiosity got the best of him, and he’d had the chance to actually think through the inconsistencies, he would peek in.

Yes, Harry supposed, any amount of syringes greater than zero was an unusually high amount of syringes to store in a linen closet. To save himself from having to defend his actions, he opened up the oven door to check on the chicken, even if there hadn't been nearly enough time for it to cook all the way through.

Eggsy smirked a bit, hopping up to sit on the counter as soon as Harry’s back was turned. "How's it looking? Can I eat it yet?"

"If you would like to simultaneously burn your mouth and ingest raw chicken, then yes," Harry said wryly, unbending so he could give Eggsy a look. He shut the oven door to keep the heat in. 

"Oh good, give it here, then," Eggsy grinned, teasing. With some adjustment on the counter, he sat upright, and beckoned Harry to come over.

Unsure as to whether or not Eggsy actually wanted him to come over, and realizing he'd look rather foolish if he moved, and then it turned out he didn't, Harry stayed where he was. "Think it's best to give it a few more minutes." 

Eggsy had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. It was a simple request, one that only necessitated a few steps, and of course Harry would look as confused as if Eggsy had asked him to bark like a dog and hop on one leg. 

Scooting on the counter just enough so that Harry was within arm's reach, Eggsy reached out and gently grabbed the frames of his glasses, making to slide them off his face. They'd been on every time he'd seen Harry: their first meeting, the fitting, all through his flat, the wedding, the kissing, the reception, and every time in the house since. Now they had some time to kill, and Eggsy was curious.

Harry suppressed the reflex that demanded he keep Eggsy’s hand away from his face, forcing himself to keep his arms where they were. Once it became clear what Eggsy’s intent was, however, he did stop him, curling his fingers loosely around Eggsy's wrist. "What are you doing?" he asked. 

"Blinding you, apparently." Eggsy stopped, but kept his almost smirking smile in place. "You seemed confused with me asking you to come here, I didn't know if I could trust you to take them off yourself." That, and Eggsy didn't quite believe Harry when he’d assured him the other day that he didn't mind being touched. Might as well test it. And besides, Eggsy wanted those glasses off.

Harry blinked for a moment, keeping his hold on Eggsy's wrist. What his husband didn't know -- couldn't know, Harry’s brain unhelpfully supplied -- was that the glasses were invaluable, his connection to Merlin and Kingsman all bundled up into the black frames. "As long as you don't break them. Or scratch them. I'm rather fond of my glasses," he finally conceded, dropping his arm back to his side. 

"Well, there goes my plan to drop them down the garbage disposal," Eggsy sighed sadly, shaking his head in mock lamentation as Harry released his wrist. 

Once he was able, he resumed carefully sliding them from Harry’s face. Eggsy may not know how much they cost, but he knew enough about rich folks to think these glasses were probably worth more than his shoes, and that was saying something, given how much his shoes cost. 

Once the glasses were off, Eggsy folded them up and handed them to Harry, looking at him with innocently raised eyebrows. "Mum always said 'on your face or in its case,' and I don't want to set them on a counter what's covered in chicken juice and all. Case, then?" 

Kingsman-issued glasses didn't exactly require cases, what with the nearly indestructible bulletproof frames, but Eggsy didn't know that. The fact that Harry didn't own a glasses case was somewhat of a problem, however, and he briefly entertained the thought of buying one just to help his cover. "They'll do fine in my pocket," he said, slipping them in and then looking back at Eggsy, one eyebrow raised. "And the purpose of taking them off was...?" he prompted. 

For a moment or two, Eggsy said nothing, keeping the vaguely smug smile on his face now that he had gotten what he wanted. He just looked at Harry, comparing the difference the lack of the harsh frames made. 

It was actually surprising. Eggsy had mostly expected to find that maybe Harry’s eyes were a little smaller than he'd thought, or that the bags under his eyes would be more prominent. While the latter wasn't strictly speaking untrue -- did Harry ever sleep? -- the absence of the frames really softened up his face. 

Eggsy found himself looking at him like another human being, rather than the stiff, withdrawn, and distant older man. Again, not untrue, and removing Harry’s glasses didn't suddenly make him warm and cuddly and induce him to throw his arms around Eggsy for a nice hug, but it did help him connect Harry's personality with the person standing in front of him a bit more. It even served to make him look a bit younger, more approachable, like someone Eggsy could have married in his own time without the gun at his back.

Curiosity satisfied on many fronts, Eggsy responded, his head tilting lazily as he shifted his weight to one side. The counter was starting to hurt a bit. "I like it," he offered simply, knowing full well his opinion on this didn't really matter, but he considered it decent reasoning for removing them. Harry didn't need to know any of the other motivations or curiosities. 

"You do?" Harry asked, a hint of surprise evident in his voice. He hadn't been expecting Eggsy to voice an opinion one way or the other, but he certainly didn't expect him to like it. He didn't think the glasses made much of a difference, but he'd had decades to get used to his face. 

After a moment, Harry narrowed his eyes, tugging the glasses back out of his pocket and unfolding them. "Fair's fair," he said by way of explanation, holding them out to Eggsy. If Merlin was smart, which he was, he would keep quiet. 

Surprised himself, Eggsy took the glasses when they were offered and placed them on his own face. Immediately his eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the lenses. The prescription wasn't huge; Harry could probably see alright without them. But they were the opposite of his own, so it took a moment to adjust to the weird perspective it gave him. Once he did, he looked at Harry with a grin, righting his head so he looked at him full on. "How's it look?"

Better than he'd thought, if Harry were being honest with himself. "Like a scholar," he said instead. With a small smile, he reached back for them, carefully lifting them off Eggsy’s face and returning them to his pocket.

Eggsy let him, holding still as he did, then wrinkled his nose as he took them back. "Scholar? Not sure I like that," he said with a laugh, only able to imagine how it must have looked. 'Scholar' translated to 'nerd,' and while that wasn't a bad thing, it wasn’t exactly the look he was going for. 

"What, did you expect them to be sexy?" Harry asked wryly, arching one eyebrow. 

"Can't hurt to hope," Eggsy grinned innocently.

Harry let out a most ungentlemanly snort before shaking his head slowly. "You look fine with or without them," he assured him. 

Eggsy only grinned, pleased to have amused him. And of course, background pleased that Harry’s glasses remained off. "Got my own either way. Think I like them better."

Half a smile played over Harry’s face, but he just shook his head. “That’s what wrinkles will do, I’m afraid. Diminish the sexiness of glasses,” he lamented, turning to check on the chicken again. The sooner it was done, the sooner he could sleep. 

Eggsy chuckled in agreement, but said nothing on it. He took a few steps further into the kitchen, giving his legs a bit of a stretch as he watched Harry, waiting to hear on the verdict. 

They hadn't set a timer, and Eggsy had no idea how far the chicken was from being done.

"They seem to be... about done," Harry said after a quick examination. He turned off the oven and pulled out the chicken carefully with an oven mitt, placing it on the top of the stove. 

Leaning over to get a good look at the pan, Eggsy sniffed. "I'll take your word for it. Smells good, though," he added, a hand going to touch his stomach. Apparently he was hungry. When did he last eat? The biscuits? No wonder.

Harry moved around, pulling out plates and silverware before turning back to the chicken. He carefully plated them, handing one over to Eggsy and taking the other for himself. "Hopefully they'll taste as good as they smell," he commented, catching a hint of the scent. 

"Since we got you, who knows what he's doing, and me, who will eat anything in front of him, I think we're set." Eggsy smirked to himself as he took the plate with a 'thanks,' moving to set it down at the table. Naturally, he pulled out his phone and pulled up Snapchat, taking a photo of the food and scrolling until the big white letters that displayed the time were over the photo and added "#latenite #donth8cosuaint" before sending it off. Only then did he actually sit down and poke at the food.

Harry took his own place at the table, the smell having stirred up his appetite somewhat. Skeptically, he watched as Eggsy photographed his food, but he waited until the amateur photographer had finished his work before he started eating himself. 

Harry’s first bite was somewhat of a cautious one, even though he really had no reason to be suspicious of it. It wasn't bad, he decided. Not his best, but then it had been one in the morning when he'd made it.

With his phone put away, Eggsy dug right in, cutting off a piece and jamming it in his mouth. He chewed, needing only the first second of the first bite to tell him he liked it quite a bit; he made an appreciative humming sound around his mouthful, giving Harry a grin once he'd swallowed as he cut another piece. "We did good. Think I'm keeping us." Another bite, this piece bigger than the first.

Well, at least Eggsy was satisfied with it. That was enough for Harry at the moment, and he set to eating his own late-night meal, not really bothering to savor it much. There would be time enough for during a dinner they didn't make quite so late. "We'll have to do this another time, then. A more reasonable one," he said, glancing over at Eggsy. 

"Whenever you have time for it. I’m here most of the day," Eggsy said with a small smirk, finishing his bite before continuing. "Not that 2 A.M. dinner is a bad thing. Shit like this you remember, you know?" And talk about. Eggsy was probably going to tell this story if anyone asked about Harry or how they were doing. In a positive light of course. 

Eggsy couldn't help thinking of when he played the Sims; he'd have the little relationship + icon over his head. He almost snickered at the visual.

Harry didn't suspect he would have much time to spare once his ankle healed up, but he might be able to spend the next couple of days with Eggsy if he hurried through his paperwork. And he had no inclination to draw that out. His husband easily beat out paperwork. "2 A.M. dinner hardly counts as dinner." 

"Sure as fuck ain't breakfast," Eggsy hummed, looking down at the plate and pondering that. "If I eat food this late at night, I usually call it 'mistake' rather than dinner." Good as it was, it probably was a mistake to eat so late. 

"This was probably a mistake, yes," Harry chuckled, thinking about how early he had to get up and how late it already was. "But it's too late to fix it now, so we might as well enjoy it." 

"Oh, and I am," Eggsy grinned, gesturing to his almost empty plate. There was more left over, but he wasn't going to eat anymore tonight. "When you're done you can go to bed, by the way. I'll wrap it and clean up and all," he offered.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, feeling a slight twinge of guilt. It had been his idea, after all; he’d been mostly responsible for the mess. "I don't mind helping, Eggsy."

"Yeah, I ain't the one that's gotta get up at the crack of dawn to get to work. Don't worry about it, I got it." He smiled, sitting back in his seat. 

"Thank you, Eggsy," Harry said, gratefully accepting the offer. He really did need to sleep, however much of an inconvenience it was. Sleep, when available, was a commodity to be taken advantage of. With Kingsman he never knew when he'd be able to get anything close to a normal amount, and it was nice to take advantage of it when he could. 

"Sure. You’ll just owe me." Eggsy winked, standing up and grabbing his plate and bringing it to the kitchen. He was done, might as well get started so he could get to bed too. He was starting to feel that tiredness.

It didn't take much longer for Harry to finish his own meal and he pushed back his chair, bringing it over to the sink where Eggsy had started in on the cleaning. Clearing his throat a bit awkwardly, he gave him a nod. "Well... goodnight, then." 

Eggsy snickered to himself, amused at how quickly Harry could go from comfortable to awkward. At the drop of a bloody hat. "Night, Har," he said over his shoulder from where he was cleaning the dishes. "See you when I see you, then."

"Probably not in the morning," Harry conceded, already making for the stairs. They didn't offer much of a challenge anymore, what with how healed his ankle was. 

Nope, Eggsy planned to sleep as long as he wanted, being that he didn't have pressing things to do. Therefore, no Harry. But that was alright, he'd seen him quite a lot tonight, something he was surprised he was pleased with. It was probably a good sign that they got along better each time they were alone. 

So Eggsy let him go, putting on music quietly on his phone to play as he cleaned up their dishes and wiped down the counter. He took his time even though he was looking forward to bed.

Harry slouched his way through getting ready for bed, taking longer than usual to pull on his pyjamas and slide underneath the covers because he was, for once, relaxed. It was an odd feeling for him, and even odder knowing that Eggsy, of all people, had relaxed him. Still, it didn't bother him enough to keep him awake, and his eyes closed nearly as soon as his head touched the pillow. 


	7. A Discovery

After that the days passed fairly uneventfully. Eggsy grew accustomed to married life fairly easily, as there really wasn't much change at all. He generally woke up in the morning early enough to say hello to Harry, wish him well as he made breakfast for himself around when he left for work. 

He and Harry weren't all that awkward anymore; it was calm, and he was fairly used to another body now. It became routine over days and weeks; routine Eggs could do.

For all his excitement over the money situation when he had first met Harry, Eggsy hadn't actually spent... any. Sure, he had asked him if it was alright to sign up for a gym membership close to Harry's house (he wasn't free running away from Dean's goons anymore and he’d started feeling soft from all the game playing), and he'd bought a dress for Daisy when he saw one he just couldn't say no to, but that was all. He'd offered to do the grocery shopping when the time came, as Harry was very rarely home once his ankle healed itself up, and again, Eggsy really wasn't up to much.

A typical day now included the morning routine: once Harry left, Eggsy dressed and went to the gym for a few hours, shower and dress and lunch, and then he either played games, met his friends, saw his mother and sister, or did whatever errands needed to be done. 

He would text Harry every now and then, too. Not unless he had something to say, but he had fun with the conversations that came of them. It turned out that sometimes Harry was funny and charming. 

Nonetheless, Eggsy felt.... odd. The monotony was nice, sort of comforting, but still, it felt as though something was missing. Eggsy had no idea what he wanted to do with himself, but this role of house husband was, while not a bad deal at all and he was very grateful for it, rather unfulfilling. But for now, it was fine. He could do this. 

Though with all the stress-free time where Eggsy didn't have to worry about Dean or his mother much, he was free to deal with other worries. Like what the fuck was Harry hiding from him. That in itself was concerning enough. He wasn't entirely sure what he did and didn't believe when it came to the stories Harry told him, “facts” he told him. Something just felt off about it all. Not to mention the thing Dean had let slip which only served to fuel the suspicion in Eggsy’s gut. 

He didn't entirely trust Harry, but he also couldn't bring himself to dislike him or resent him for it. It just made whatever wall there was between them feel more solid. 

-

Routine was good. Routine was something Harry could work with. Routine at home meant Harry had more time to deal with all the shit that came up when one was a Kingsman agent. And there was quite a lot of that. 

As soon as his ankle was up to full function again, Merlin had him out on all of the missions he hadn't been able to take when he'd been stuck doing paperwork. Not that Harry minded; it certainly made up for the mundane normal job he had to spend hours and hours at. 

In those desk-job hours, he often found himself wishing he could go back home to Eggsy, get to know him a little better, or at least be able to get away from forms. Or clients from hell. Kingsman training could only help so much when it came to dealing with other people, especially those he was required to be polite with. But Harry made it through the days with only minimal flare-ups of his temper. 

Thanks to Kingsman missions, he came home at all hours of the night night and day; a few times Eggsy would be around, and he would give him another cooking lesson, but more often than not Eggsy would already be asleep when he returned. He'd make his way upstairs quietly, sure not to disturb him. 

It wasn't bad. The amount of time Harry spent with Eggsy was pretty close to perfect. It was enough time to enjoy his presence without having to pepper the conversation with lies. Not that he didn't have to lie to Eggsy. Because he did. Constantly. Going back on missions meant quite a few injuries that needed covering up or explaining away when they were too large to really be hidden. And naturally there were the typical questions he had to dodge, or at least not expand upon, answers to questions like "How was your day?" or "Had anything interesting happen at the office?" 

Routine fell apart one morning after Eggsy returned from his workout and got done with his shower. He swore, rubbing at the scruff on his face as he realized he did not have an extra razor like he thought he did. He could go out and buy one today, sure, but he needed one right now. Scruff was okay around the house, but he didn't want to go out looking like that if he could help it. So the idea came to him to check Harry's bathroom for one. Harry would understand, right? Plus, Eggsy couldn't resist the temptation to look in his room. He'd resisted for weeks now.

Carefully, he pushed open the door to his bedroom. He didn't want to poke through his things really, if he broke his trust living with him would probably be a pain in the arse, but he did glance around on his way to the bathroom. It was pretty much how he would expect, all in all. Well-made bed, satin pyjamas on top of the laundry pile, knick knacks on top of the dresser. Nothing terribly impressive. 

The bathroom seemed to be the door closed off to the right, and he walked quietly over, his childish sense of not wanting to be caught doing something wrong having him be quiet even though he was the only occupant in the house. He pushed open the door, and immediately froze. He expected something... But this wasn't it. There were... so many butterflies. So many. He was going to go ahead and say an excessive amount. 

And then as Eggsy turned to try and count them all, he came face to face with the sad visage of what he at first thought was a live dog. He jumped, but when it didn't move, he grimaced and leaned closer to examine it. It was stuffed. There was a stuffed dog in the bathroom. "... What the-?" He rubbed his neck, trying not to think 'freak'. Who stuffed a dead dog? Who kept it in their fucking bathroom?

After not finding a razor, Eggsy retreated to his room again and grabbed his phone. Well, he was definitely going to need an explanation over that one. 

_ So. I found something.  _

Eggsy sent the text out, not even bothering to autocorrect to his usual way of texting.

So far, Harry thought, everything was going well. Eggsy might have suspected something, but, if he did, he didn't press about it. Nor did he press about the shady past he'd given as a clinician or any of the other lies he told for that matter. That was certainly preferable to someone who pressed into his business on a daily basis.

Then came the text. Harry tried not to worry about it unduly, but it seemed rather serious, hard 'g' and everything. 

_ Care to elaborate on that something? -HH _

Eggsy wasn't a gossip. He didn't share personal business unnecessarily -- he just over shared the mundane. Pictures of his food? Up on Snapchat or Twitter out the wazoo. A dead dog in the bathroom? Unless Harry turned out to be a crazy psycho killer, Eggsy would keep this to himself. .... Please god, let him not be a crazy psycho killer.

_ I count... 23 butterfly cases in your bathroom. And a dead dog. Why... Is any of this _

_ You were in my room. -HH _

_ I was looking for a razor. These are not razors. _

_ No. They're not. They're a collection, and I would greatly appreciate it if you got out of my room. -HH _

_ im out. left right after that. but why are u collecting butterflies _

Eggsy had collected himself a bit more, managed to convince himself that Harry wasn't a psycho, even with the dead animal and pressed insects and... closet full of medical supplies... He pulled a face. Probably. Probably not. Sigh.

_ Some people have collections, Eggsy. -HH _

It seemed that really was all Eggsy had found, and Harry allowed himself to relax a little bit. Questions about butterflies he could answer without having to lie, at least.

_ but. but why so many? and in the bathroom? and u never mentioned it when i asked for anything abou u _

_ I thought my bathroom would be a private place where people might not notice my rather strange collection. And there could be quite a few more given how many species of butterflies there are. -HH _

_ ur married bruv i dont count as people. i didnt know there were more than monarch & 'other’ _

_ If you're genuinely interested, I'm sure you could use some of that free time you have to make a trip to the library and find a book or two on the subject. -HH _

Obviously that wasn't going to happen. Because no, Eggsy wasn't interested, he was just still working through the confusion that was seeing all of that in Harry’s bathroom. He didn't even mention the dog, just assumed there was a whole thing there. He may not be into taxidermy -- at all really, he found the whole thing rather weird and unsettling -- but that one clearly had a story to it. One doesn't have a stuffed dog unless they were quite attached to it, and that's not the kind of thing to ask about over text message anyway. 

But  _ why _ though? Harry seemed so reluctant to tell him anything, to give him new information in any capacity. "How was your day," "good," "how are you feeling," "fine." 

Eggsy opened up the closet again, just to stare at all the things stuffed inside it. His eyes narrowed as he looked over the contents. 

Generally, with external forces removed, Eggsy was a happy person. He'd been happy here so far, asking for little, not pushing things. But goddamn it, he was starting to feel very shut out, and it was trying his patience. 

Eggsy didn't expect to be accepted into Harry's life with open arms; Harry probably had wanted this about as much as Eggsy did. But Eggsy was trying. Fuck, was he trying. Keeping to himself, not going out and doing the shit he used to do (he hadn't touched his bong in forever, hadn't gotten properly smashed since his wedding, hadn't driven the car as much or how he would like, hadn't even free run, though that was more of a necessity; not a lot of obstacles in that part of London), respecting Harry's privacy and boundaries, not pushing things that were touchy, and not going near his room until today... And he seemed to have been met with that wall over and over again. It would go up at seemingly random points in conversation, and Eggsy was getting more and more strange pieces of the puzzle. He just had no idea what the big picture was. 

Eggsy closed the door again and retreated downstairs, sitting on his blanket on the part of the couch he had by now claimed as his. He sat there with his legs beneath him, staring at the carpeting. He had no one to talk this through with. He couldn't even do it with his friends; he'd promised himself to treat Harry like a friend, and that meant not giving up his secrets, if they could be called that. So, vague isolation it was. 

He grabbed his vape, grape this time, smoking it as he looked down at the floor in thought. Who the fuck was he married to?

Harry stared at his phone for a while, urging it to come up with some message, some indication that Eggsy had just done as he'd said and flounced off to the library for a bit so he could get a book on butterflies. Not that he was expecting that to actually happen; there was no doubt in his mind that Eggsy didn't give a single fuck about the insects, just cared about the mystery they represented. Heaving a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. 

As much as he hadn't expected to, he found himself liking Eggsy. The boy had been dealt a bad hand and maintained a good attitude. He'd been a good husband, doing everything Harry had asked of him almost without question, keeping to himself, being satisfied with half-answers and stuttered conversations, the best Harry could really provide. 

But now, it seemed, that wasn't going to be enough. Harry was either going to have to come up with some convoluted explanation that would somehow explain away everything and leave little room for further questions, or he was going to have to come clean. 

Which wasn't really an option, even if Harry had wanted to. He didn't want to, not by a long shot. Eggsy knowing about Kingsman would only put him in danger and it wouldn't serve any real purpose other than prolonging the marriage neither of them had wanted in the first place. They could get divorced, he supposed. The stigma built up against unmarried people lessened to a degree once they’d been married once, even if said marriage didn't survive. But that would leave Eggsy right back where he started, in a less than ideal situation. Wasn't that what he had at the moment, though, Harry's mind supplied unhelpfully. After all, he might have a cushy house, a nice car, and more money than he knew what to do with, but that couldn't completely make up for the absentee husband and the lonely days of isolation he'd been treading through. 

Something needed to be done. Harry just had to figure out what. 

Not that he had the time. As soon as he was done with his 9 to 5 it was off to Kingsman to take down an ex-KGB who felt like reliving the glory days by suicide bombing an underground station. Right up Kingsman's alley, and Harry was free to take on the job. He made his way home with bruises just beginning to color one side of his face rather nastily. It would be a right terror in the morning, that was certain. He'd just have to hope Eggsy was asleep, but it was only 1:30 A.M. He really didn’t have much hope. 

At 1:30 A.M., Eggsy was still quite awake. He'd played all the games he'd cared to play that day, leaving him watching telly that he really didn't care much about. But he wasn't tired, and he supposed it was better than nothing.

When Eggsy heard the front door open, he didn't look up. He was still... Cross wasn't the right term, but he wasn't exactly content either. He waited, listening for Harry to make his way in, mentally debating what he was going to say to him.

Harry could hear the low hum of the television as soon as he opened the door, but that didn't completely extinguish his hope. Plenty of people feel asleep with the telly still on in the background, and Eggsy could have done the same. There was no reason for Harry to close the door, sneak around the side of the house, and climb up through his window just to avoid him. Or he hoped there wouldn't be, at least. 

Quietly, Harry slipped in, and closed the door behind him while making as little noise as possible. If Eggsy was asleep, he certainly didn't want to wake him and if he was awake, he didn't want to alert him. He made his way through the darkness towards the stairs, figuring that the lack of light would go a long way in concealing his fresh bruises even if Eggsy did see him.

Even the ears of a grumpy 24-year-old waiting for a sign of his husband's entry so he could corner him with conversation was no match for someone trained in stealth. Eggsy had heard the door, but he hadn't heard Harry sneaking through to the stairs. 

As the seconds ticked by, he frowned, wondering if Harry had just come in and left again or something. He lifted his head and looked over the back of the couch, catching the movement of Harry reaching the steps. He frowned. 

Harry had to have known he was sitting here; the telly was still on. That meant either he was trying to be polite and not disturb him, or he was flat out avoiding him. While Eggsy hoped for the former, he couldn't quite suppress the stab of anger the far more likely latter caused.

"Welcome home," Eggsy offered, tone fairly neutral. He remained seated, and Harry was backlit enough that looking at him didn't really give him anything, so he looked away, back towards the television, unseeing.

Busted. Harry supposed it was only to be expected, given their earlier conversation; Eggsy wasn't likely to just take this all lying down. He would have been almost proud of Eggsy’s curiosity if it wasn't problematic for him. Suppressing a sigh, he half-turned, first foot still on the step, hand on the railing, poised to continue climbing. Perhaps it would do something to help keep the conversation short. 

"Did you need something?" Harry asked, sounding a touch more testy than he really intended to. "I was just heading up to bed. You can keep the telly on as long as you like, it won't be a bother." It wasn't much to make up for... well, everything, really, but it was all he had at the moment, and dammit he could at least try. 

Harry was agitated with  _ him _ ? He had no right to be irritated. Sure, if he was getting home late, he was probably exhausted, but Harry was the one avoiding him, and all Eggsy had said was a fairly innocuous 'welcome home.' Another stab of anger mixed with hurt hit him. Fine. He hated passive aggression, but now did not feel like the time to get into an argument. He would just have to vent some of it tomorrow.

"Goodnight, Harry,” Eggsy said simply, once again fairly neutral, and he was bitterly pleased with himself for being able to keep his anger contained. At least for now. 

Harry hesitated. He could say something, apologize, try and make up for unjustifiably snapping at Eggsy. But that could potentially lead to a conversation he just wasn't ready to have. 'I'm sorry' died at the tip of his tongue, and all he did was clear his throat. "Goodnight, Eggsy," he said, neutral tone matching Eggsy's. 

And, without another word, he started up the stairs. 

Eggsy let him go, not bothering to look over at him either. He had been up to waste time, something he seemed to have endless supply of, and had held out hope for having a brief conversation with Harry. But he got a handful of words and more anger than he had bargained for. He sat there, blank eyes fixed on the screen as he thought, once again killing time. He wanted to be absolutely certain that he wouldn't run into Harry again tonight; he didn't trust himself enough not to let his anger spill over if he did. When he did go to sleep, it was with anger boiling in his stomach, leaving him with one conclusion, the thing he had been putting off for weeks. He had to go talk to Dean. 


	8. A Revelation

While Eggsy was awake at his usual time come morning, early enough to see Harry, say hello, wish him well before he left as he made his breakfast, he stayed in his room, not coming out. For really the first time since moving in, he didn't want to run into Harry. 

It wasn't all that surprising that Eggsy pretty much avoided him the next morning. The lack of him was noticeable but not unappreciated, and Harry was reminded of the days before he was married as he silently ate his breakfast and read the papers. He suspected Eggsy was awake, there were a few rustles from his bedroom door when he passed by, which meant that his absence was deliberate. Not that Harry blamed him. Guilt from the way he'd treated Eggsy the previous night niggled at him, but not enough to make him do anything about it. 

Silently, he headed off to work, wondering what exactly he was going to do about Eggsy. 

As soon as he was certain Harry was gone, Eggsy got ready for the day, showering and changing his clothes and forgoing breakfast, all while trying to talk himself out of the inevitable, the plan he'd resigned himself to. Dean was really the last person he wanted to try to talk to; he treated him poorly, he was unreasonable, he was unpredictable. But Eggsy really needed that piece of information. What the fuck had Harry done?

When he was ready, he sighed in resignation and set out. 

This time, Eggsy left the car behind. He didn't know where he would end up, and he didn't want anything happening to Harry's car. So he called a cab, and took it over to his old flat. Bit of a drive, but it gave him time to text his mother that he was on his way. 

When Eggsy arrived, he was surprised at just how quickly the fire of his anger was lessened when his two favourite ladies greeted him happily, kissing his cheeks. 

Michelle hugged him and patted his cheek, Daisy demanded to be lifted up, and his focused, angry expression easily melted away. He needed to remember to come here if he got too upset or isolated or angry. They made him so much more calm. By the time Michelle put the kettle on, he had almost forgotten why he’d shown up, pleased to tease Daisy and nibble on a few scones, until the question was asked. "How are you and Harry doing?"

Eggsy tensed up. He let an awkward silence pass, before asking the question he really didn't want to ask. "Where's Dean?"

Dean heard the door open, heard the muted chatter of conversation and promptly buried his head in the pillow. Michelle should just tell them to fuck off. He would do it himself, but he was far too hungover for that conversation and like hell was he getting out of this bed. 

Then he heard his name and recognized the second voice as Eggsy's. Bastard. He should have known it would be him intruding at a time like this. Groaning, he hauled himself out of the bed, shuffling into the sitting room. "The fuck do you want?" he slurred.  

Ah, still alive. Somewhat. Michelle, confused, busied herself with tea. 

Eggsy looked up at Dean from where he sat, giving him a polite smile. "Morning there, Dean. Rough night then?" he asked rhetorically, leaning back in his seat to get comfortable. "Gotta talk to you."

Curling his lip in a disdainful sneer, Dean leaned against the door frame, scratching lazily at his stubble. "Talk, huh? What the hell have you got to talk about?" 

"Harry." Eggsy thought for a moment, wondering just how to proceed. As much as he wanted answers, there was an undeniable part of him that wanted to fake that things were good just to save himself from the accusations that he was fucking up. "Remember when you warned me not to get on his bad side? What did you mean? How did you meet him?"

Dean let out a harsh, guttural laugh. "You gone and made him mad at you already, Muggsy? Gonna have to start saving up for a funeral, Michelle, your boy ain't gonna be around much longer," he chuckled. 

Michelle's noise of protest was cut off by Eggsy, who just sat forward a bit more. "That, that shit. The fuck you on about? What'd he do?"

"What'd he do? Beat the ever-loving fuck out of Martin and his goons, that's what he did," Dean scoffed, looking at Eggsy as if he were an idiot. "Didn't even ruffle that fancy suit of his."

"Beat th--" Eggsy gaped at him. 

That couldn't be right. Harry was a little odd, a bit out of the ordinary even as the posh went, but no way would he be able to fight against several thuggish men. And win, apparently. And if this happened in the window Eggsy felt it must have, Harry wouldn't have even suffered visible injury. That couldn't be right. No, not Harry. "You taking the piss?"

Dean’s bemused look was quickly replaced with a more dangerous one, one that promised nothing good if Eggsy kept going down the same road. "You calling me a liar, Eggsy? Ain't no way to talk to me, you get me?" 

That didn't make sense… That just didn't make sense. Sure, Harry had a closet full of medical supplies; that fit in if he made a habit of beating people up for one reason or another. But Harry didn't get injured from it. Eggsy would have noticed tell tale fighting marks on him at their first meeting if he had. 

Although, Harry _ had  _ been injured. A few times, come to think of it. The ankle, a few bruises or mild limping. But that was just coincidence, surely. Harry had explained it to him. He tripped on a curb, he wasn't watching where he was going and hit a box at knee level, he banged his head on the cab roof because he was so tired. 

Eggsy had believed him, chosen to believe his husband was just clumsy and had had a series of unfortunate happenings. Did he have to come to terms with the fact that Harry might be lying to him about nearly everything?

Eggsy was so confused, thinking through everything, that he didn't even have it in him to work up any sort of foreboding over the look he knew all too well. "How'd you pawn me off on him, eh?" he continued on, eyes narrowed and fixed on a point on the wall directly in front of him, not really looking at Dean, just listening intently.

"Miracle, wasn’t it? You ain't an easy sell, there, Eggsy," Dean muttered through gritted teeth, folding his arms over his chest. Something in Eggsy's expression alerted him to the fact that Eggsy wasn't feeling entirely comfortable with this new information, and he smirked nastily. "What, didn't know he was fucking Jet Li or something? I know more about your husband than you, is that it?" 

'Fucking apparently,' Eggsy almost said, his hands curling into fists in his lap. He was grateful that by now Michelle had gathered up Daisy and left the room sometime during his reverie, not because he was overly worried about Dean getting physical, but he was worried that he would lose his temper, and he really didn't want Daisy to see that. She didn't need to associate that kind of anger with him, too. But it was starting to surge again. 

By nature, Eggsy was an incredibly loyal person when his allegiance was won or earned, and he knew enough about himself to know he was sweet, good to the people he knew and liked. But Harry had purchased his loyalty, and seemed to be making the number one sin against Eggsy in his book -- lying to his face. "Wouldn't be here talking to you about it if you didn't, would I," he said dully.

It was like Christmas, seeing Eggsy this way, all wound up and seething about something. He couldn't tell it from his voice, no, but Dean knew how to read anger and it was written in every line of the younger man's body. Dean was loving it. Riling Eggsy up had never been easier. "Took him a bit before I could convince him to take you off me hands," Dean added, leaning nonchalantly against the doorway. "He wasn't on board till I told him you could keep your mouth shut about things." 

Eggsy's eyes snapped up to Dean’s face at his words, hands in his lap tightening further as his lips pressed together in a line. Harry's voice echoed in his mind, reminding him that he'd done this for a promotion. He'd always felt used about the whole endeavor, knowing he was being given away to someone who was keeping him just to say he had someone at home and lessen the stigma, but for whatever reason, knowing it was his silence that had sealed the deal, that he didn't grass up anyone he felt loyal to... It made him feel even more used, a gross sort. He folded his arms across his chest and said nothing. He didn't want to believe it, but he didn't seem to have a choice.

"What’s the matter, Muggsy? Not enjoying married life?" Dean teased with a sneer. "Thought you'd have been the type to be a little housepet." He dragged his eyes meaningfully over Eggsy's body, snorting. "Course you'd fuck up being married to a posh bloke. All you gotta do is get on your back for him and don't complain, and you ain't even got the brain to get that right," he said. 

Eggsy was being goaded, very clearly. Dean wanted to get even more of a rise out of him for some sadistic reason, and Eggsy usually didn't want to play into his hands. But damnit, he was already angry, and those words cut to him right where Dean must have known they would. "Shut the fuck up," he said through gritted teeth, hating that he came over, hating that he took the time to talk to Dean. And hating that in a way, Dean was right. Eggsy  _ was _ being a fucking housepet, and he _ was _ fucking it up. 

Slightly taken aback by the fact that Eggsy was actually responding to his goading (he usually had a disappointing lack of self-control), Dean almost missed his chance to throw in another sneer. "Don't look soft enough to have gotten yourself knocked up yet," he stated, staring pointedly at Eggsy's torso which looked as flat as it ever had. "Can't get that right neither? Or is it the old geezer who can't get it up?" 

The abandoned tea kettle on the stove began whistling loudly just as Eggsy abruptly got to his feet, hands at his sides and glaring at Dean with all the anger he'd been building inside of him. Through it all, it was still a knee-jerk reaction to want to defend him, Harry, his life from Dean's petty accusations. A thought which only made things worse; he had no fucking reason to want to defend Harry, especially. He'd gotten what he needed. Time to get out. "Go back to bed, eh? Can still smell the fucking drink on you from here."

Dean snorted derisively, but he couldn't deny that swaggering back to bed sounded like a good idea. "I'll get your mum to join me. She likes the taste," he drawled, unable to resist one last, parting shot. He was already pushing himself off the wall, shuffling back to his bedroom. 

One day, Eggsy would hit that man in the face as hard as he fucking could.

Today was still not that day. 

Eggsy removed the loud kettle and set it rather pointlessly to the side of the burner he then turned off, stepping outside the flat even as he heard the faint call of '...Eggsy?' from behind him. He was in no state to talk to his mother. He was in no state to do most things, actually. He felt used, ignored, like the whole of his life was actually fairly pointless. His fucking husband was lying to him, avoiding him, more than likely didn't give a fucking rat's arse about him beyond his existing as someone who bore his name. 

Thank goodness he took a cab. He didn't feel like driving Harry's car; he would surely make a poor decision in this frame of mind. So, after standing just outside the door and inhaling the cold November English air into his lungs a few times, he took a running start and launched himself off the balcony and onto a lower terrace of flats below his, taking off running. Maybe this would burn off some of his rage. Or maybe he'd end up nicking a car. His feet carried him automatically, running and balancing on railings and ledges until he was vaulting over rooftops on the buildings surrounding his large complex, making his way to Ryan's flat. He couldn't stand being alone right now.

-

Work was hard enough to concentrate on in the best of times. Add in a clearly upset husband to the mix and it certainly didn't get  _ better _ . 

Harry spent most of his morning trying to focus on the stock information and fighting the urge to sigh every time he thought about Eggsy and just how badly he was fucking this up. It wasn't like he'd wanted this marriage, but that didn't give him the right to be a complete arse about everything. He knew this, and somehow he just couldn't seem to stop. Well, he resolved, he would make more of an effort than usual that night. If Eggsy was still up when he got home, Harry wouldn't do anything to further jeopardize their already tenuous relationship. 

Somehow, miraculously, Harry eventually managed to turn off the Eggsy switch in his head and actually get some shit done. For a little while, at least. Thoughts of him came surging back at his lunch break as he dug out some of the leftovers from the previous night, and he noted that he really should give Eggsy another cooking lesson. If he even wanted one.

Once Eggsy had spent a few hours with Ryan, he started feeling better. He still didn't share any of Harry's secrets, pissed off as he was, but Ryan wasn't dumb enough for the loveless marriage his friend was in to escape his notice. 

He had chalked the anger and melancholy up to Eggsy's isolation, and, like any good friend would, vowed to help him out of his funk. They played games together, watched some YouTube, and when the sun set, they left to meet up with Jamal at their old pub. 

Eggsy drank, smoked real cigarettes for the first time in awhile (he really was trying to quit, but it was stressful, he told himself, he was allowed one or two), and laughed with his friends until the hours stretched late, and he knew he should be getting back. 

Jacking a car was a lovely allure, but Eggsy elected to walk in the cold air after bidding his friends farewell. It was a decently long walk back to the house, but one he felt he should make to get his head back on again after the roller coaster of a day. He made it back in at half past midnight, not thinking Harry would have the  _ possibility _ of coming home for another hour at least. That was time he would spend making himself dinner (had he eaten today? Maybe a scone at his mum's but damn, no wonder he was hungry,) and trying to remind himself Harry was  _ not _ a serial killer. Probably. Just a shit husband.

-

On his way into Kingsman, Harry paused in front of the dressing room mirror, hand already half-raised to turn the fitting room into a lift. He grimaced. There was no hiding a bruise like that, no matter how dark the room was. It was quite prominent, an ugly yellow-brown at the edges and ranging from dark purple to near-green in the center. He was losing his touch to let himself get a mark like that, he thought. Unfortunately, this probably meant he'd be back on desk duty tonight. A face like that would be almost guaranteed to draw second looks.

Harry was right as it turned out, and only too glad to make his way home at the end of the night. Until he remembered Eggsy. His husband. Whom he'd snubbed and snapped at and just generally been an arse to. And who was probably still upset. Damn. 

Finally, Eggsy was feeling calmer, the fuse on his rage longer and less likely to blow up quickly. Which was probably a good thing, especially as he was expecting to run into Harry. They needed to talk.

He waited, sitting at the table just to the right of the front door, knowing shy of Harry waiting for him to use the restroom or scaling the building, he would be hard pressed to sneak by and avoid him a second night. 

It was reasonably late (or, early rather) when Harry finished up his paperwork for Kingsman. Late enough to assume that Eggsy had gone off to bed, at least. 

But his luck, it seemed, was not going to hold. When Harry walked in, he found Eggsy up and waiting for him, looking as if he wasn't going to be skirted around this time. "Eggsy," he sighed.

"Hello, Har-" Eggsy looked up at him after he entered, eyebrows raised but face otherwise straight until he got a good look at him. He had moved around as he had waited for him, shifting from the head of the table, to one side, to the other, playing with his phone until he heard the jingle of keys outside the door. 

By now Eggsy’s eyes were rather red from tiredness, but that and messier hair was really the only sign he gave of anything other than complete neutrality. Until of course, he registered what was going on with Harry’s face. 

Huge purple and green bruises all along the side of his face pushed away the anger inside him, his natural gut-reaction of concern taking precedent. "Harry -- Holy shit." Eggsy pushed back from his chair, standing as though wanting to go to help him, but his feet refused to move. "The fuck happened to you?" His eyes narrowed as they focused on him, mind swimming with concern -- those had to hurt -- and more foreboding. Was Harry getting into fights at night? Was he in some Fight Club or something?

Shit. Harry had forgotten about the bruising, having grown used to the dull ache encompassing that side of his face and hadn't thought to turn it away, hide it from Eggsy. And now it was too late. Eggsy had most certainly seen them, given the look of concern clouding his face. "Ah, right, that," he muttered, fingers fluttering against the discolored skin of his cheek. "Nothing to worry about. It looks worse than it is," he assured him, unable to come up with an actual excuse at the moment. He hadn't been prepared for any sort of confrontation and was woefully unready for the question. 

"Jesus Christ, it looks like someone fucking clocked you. Few times too. Fuck, that's gotta hurt," Eggsy murmured, rubbing at his face as he sat back down in his chair. He knew that even if he offered help (not that he knew what to offer) Harry would probably brush it off. His thoughts jolted upstairs to the medicine closet and suspicion rose in the back of his mind. Eggsy listened for what he assumed were going to be lies as he asked the question again. "What happened to you?"

Harry opened his mouth, but for once he didn't have a ready excuse, no witty lie to weasel his way out from under Eggsy's attention. After a moment, he realized he really should say  _ something _ . "Yes, I... I did get ‘clocked’, as you put it. A few times," he sighed, sinking into the seat across from Eggsy's own and sighing. He leaned back, leveling his stare on him. He didn't expand further, but at least what he'd told him had been the truth. 

Eggsy set his jaw as he looked at him. Well. That wasn't a lie, it sounded like. But Harry clearly didn’t want to tell him any more truth than that. He supposed at this point he should just be happy he got a somewhat truth out of him. "Why were you punched?" 

"The other man and I had a bit of a disagreement," Harry said, not taking his eyes away from Eggsy’s. "Now I assume you weren't sitting here at the the table for no reason. What was it you wanted?"

Again, this left the bitter taste of half-truth in Eggsy’s mouth. He sighed, remaining upright and leaning on the table a bit as he quirked an eyebrow. "I've waited up for you before. But yeah. We gotta talk." 

There were lots of things Eggsy had wanted to say to Harry, mini-speeches and rants he'd rehearsed for when Harry arrived, but now that he was there, Eggsy couldn't remember more than a few fragments, unable to figure out which order he’d wanted to tell them in. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and started. "By now, you gotta know that I've figured out you're hiding something from me, yeah? I’m not unobservant, and I listen to my gut when it tells me something don't make sense. I let you get away with it because of all you've done for me, whether you've wanted to or not. I'm not ungrateful for all of this, I know you can’t help how you are, how you feel about me, how many hours you gotta work..." He sighed and sat back in his seat, rubbing at his red-rimmed eyes. "... But I can't stand to be lied to, Harry. I know you're lying about something, and I'm getting scared of what it might be." He frowned, arms folding defensively over his chest. He didn't want to voice what those fears were, genuinely concerned Harry might be something like a serial killer. "I talked to Dean today."

Harry sighed, having expected this at some point. The knowledge of its coming didn't make it any easier, and the intricate web of lies he'd created no longer seemed adequate. The urge to tell Eggsy the truth was there, pushing at him ever insistently, but he cast it aside. It would only serve to endanger Eggsy, and Harry didn't want that. 

Then Eggsy dropped his last statement, and Harry stiffened. He had been banking on the less-than-stellar relationship Eggsy had with his step-father to keep him from going to him, but apparently Eggsy was more curious than he'd given him credit for. "And what did he say?" he asked, his voice low, a slight edge to it that hadn't been there before.

"That you beat the shit outta people, Harry! And apparently it was fucking brutal, because Dean made it sound like I was gonna end up fucking dead." Eggsy ran a hand through his hair, looking away from Harry and the large bruising that only served to propagate his inference of the fighting that must occur. The edge to his voice didn't go amiss, but Eggsy wasn't keeping this back. He didn't want to think on it much, wanted to believe Harry's words from the first time Dean let something slip that he had “nothing to fear from him”, but he'd been lied to clearly many times. Why wouldn't that be a lie too? "Is that where the injuries are coming from? Fights?"

He had to know, even if it made things worse. Had he exchanged bad for worse?

For a moment, Harry couldn't reply. He was too busy wrestling down the urge to march over to Dean's flat and give him a replay of the night they'd met to say anything. Once he'd managed to calm down a bit, he let out a breath, closing his eyes momentarily to gather his thoughts. "I told you once, Eggsy, that you didn't have anything to fear from me," he said, opening them. "And that remains true. Whatever Dean might have told you, I can assure you that I have no reason to do the same to you." Another silence settled in between them and he sucked in a breath before continuing. "Yes. This," and here he reached up to touch his fingertips gently to his cheek, "was from a fight. As were most of the other injuries I've come home with, as I'm sure you've figured out by now."

If Harry had meant to sound comforting, it didn't work. Eggsy was still anxious, confused. Harry had lied to him before, and he had felt first hand the slow transition from friendly face to someone who threatens the back of their hand at the drop of a hat. He rubbed at his face again, feeling frustrated and angry and backed into a corner. "Why are you fighting? Is it some fight club thing after work or something?" 

"Something like that," Harry said, not expanding any further. He could sense Eggsy's hesitation, but he didn't blame him for it, not with the way he'd been lying to him since they were married. 

"Dammit, Harry-" Eggsy snapped, sitting upright again in his chair, fidgety in his frustration. Harry wasn't lying, but he was being deliberately difficult, as though he didn't want to lie but didn't want to tell the truth either. Or maybe he was still compiling a more elaborate lie to tell him. "Would... Can you tell me why the fuck you can't tell me?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, sighing once more. At least Eggsy didn't seem entirely opposed to remaining in the dark if he only knew why he must remain there. "It wouldn't do either of us any good, I'm afraid. In fact I daresay it might do you quite a bit of harm in the long run." 

Eggsy looked at him, frowning to himself. "There something I need to know? Do I gotta worry about some guys coming round at some point or something, you getting suddenly killed for no reason? Or what about you coming home and packing shit up in the middle of the night, saying we -- or just you, I guess -- gotta go right the fuck then?" A million scenarios were passing through his mind, most of them not good. Wouldn't any sort of danger have been something pertinent to mention before they got married?

Harry wasn't entirely certain what he could say without giving too much away. He'd already revealed far more than he'd ever planned to, but he really couldn't stand Eggsy looking at him as if he was someone to be feared. The boy was quite right to, of course, but he wasn't to know that. "Haven't I made it home every night?" he countered with a question of his own. "And I've yet to pack up a bag and dash out on you."  

"It's only been a few weeks," Eggsy said in return, feeling closer to drained than angry. He wanted to be angry; anger was easier to work with, familiar, safe. This was... closer to tired resignation. 

"Eggsy..." Harry sighed, running a hand over his face. "It won't happen, I assure you. I've been carrying on in this manner for many years now and have yet to be driven off my own property. You're safe here." 

"Comforting." Eggsy stood, rubbing his hair as he paced behind his chair. He didn't know what he wanted; any and all answers were just making it worse. He'd really held out a sliver of hope that Dean was a liar, that Harry really did spend time in a medical clinic, that all of the transparent lies were true. Whatever this shit was, whatever he couldn't know or it would be dangerous for him or them both, he both did and didn't want to know. He had liked Harry. He didn't want to be afraid of him and what he might be capable of. Fuck. 

"Try not to lie to me, Harry. I don't gotta know everything; you can have your secrets, fuck knows I got mine. Tell me if you can’t, just--" Eggsy shook his head, hand still in his hair, frustrated

Harry rose to his feet slowly, keeping his distance. He wasn't sure what Eggsy would do if he tried to approach him, and he wasn't really sure he wanted to find out. "I can't tell you, Eggsy. You'll just have to trust that I won't hurt you and that I..." He trailed off. He was going to say 'I'm doing the best I can', but that simply wasn't true. He'd barely put in any effort over the past few days and it was showing now. "I'll be trying harder from now," he amended. "I don't want to lose you." 

The romantic in Eggsy wanted that to be true, wanted Harry to come over to him and pull him in his arms and say that, and mean it too. But the pessimism and realism were winning out, telling him Harry didn't want to lose his status, didn't want to have to start over with some other poor sod who was more gullible and less curious. It was quite apparent that Harry didn't want  _ him  _ specifically, just the idea of him, the proof of him. It was painfully obvious he would rather be alone again, from the ways he avoided Eggsy, jumped occasionally like he forgot he was there, never made to touch him let alone kiss him since their wedding ceremony, let  _ alone  _ fuck him, which was actually rather confusing. He'd thought, worst case scenario like Dean said, he'd be lying there just taking it every so often to keep Harry happy, but this was a no-case scenario, and Eggsy didn't know what to do about that, so he often chose to forget it was even a part of the arrangement at all. 

But they got along well when they were allowed to, Eggsy realized as he thought about it. Tipsy at the reception, occasional texts, glasses swapping... he'd found himself smiling and laughing and meaning it, but those instances were few and far between the times he would get "good morning Eggsy, good night Eggsy" instead. He couldn't stop his capacity to hope. This time the hope that Harry would try harder to get to know him and make him feel more welcome than burden won out over the pessimism that he would try just hard enough to keep Eggsy from blowing his brains out or more realistically, stay away from him constantly out of fear and anger. But wasn't that already more than he'd initially promised him?

Eggsy had to say something and not just stand there with his hand in his hectic hair, frowning at Harry. After a few seconds, he gave a single nod with a sighed exhale, letting his hand fall and hit his side with a slapping sound. "Yeah. Alright. I'll trust you." Trust you not to hurt me, trust you not to endanger me. That was about all the truth he could manage himself right then.

Harry's usual 'thank you, Eggsy' didn't really seem to be sufficient in this particular instance. This was Eggsy putting a faith in him that he sure as hell didn't deserve, trusting him right after he'd found out he'd constantly been lied to. He needed a more meaningful way to express his gratitude but he was coming up empty. He didn't know what Eggsy needed from him. Unless... 

'This isn't the first time I've waited up for you' Eggsy had said earlier and he hadn't been lying. The younger man always seemed to be a little bit happier whenever Harry spent time with him so maybe... It was a risk, but Harry took it. Heaven knew he wasn't the most cautious of persons anyways. "I promise you'll be safe," he breathed, stepping forwards and lifting his hand to cup Eggsy's cheek.

Eggsy had fully been expecting a simple  'thank you, Eggsy,' and had intended to just go up to his room after that. But then Harry was stepping up to him, touching his face, and he was confused. He looked up at him, a frown in his eyes, but didn't jerk away from the touch.

Well, Harry supposed, he  _ had _ promised to try harder. Eggsy hadn't pulled away, didn't look like he was trying to either, which meant Harry should probably take advantage of this opportunity. So he did. He dipped his head, lips brushing briefly over Eggsy's in something resembling a kiss before he brought them together for real.

Eggsy hadn't known what to expect, not sure what Harry was thinking or going to do. Until he leaned in and kissed him, of course. For all his anger and frustration, Eggsy couldn't help the slight hiccup in his heart the second before Harry pressed their lips together. He let it happen, pressing gently against his lips and accepting it as a gesture of apology. He didn't fully forgive him yet, but it was an acceptable start.

Harry didn't make it a lingering kiss, pulled away after a few seconds. But he didn't retreat completely. Instead, he rested his forehead against Eggsy's, his hand staying where it was on his cheek. "I really don't deserve you," he sighed softly. Then he really did pull away, arm dropping back to his side.

"...yeah, I'm pretty great," Eggsy teased weakly, his lips twitching at the corners. But he wasn't ready to really laugh or tease yet. When Harry pulled away, he rubbed the back of his neck, looking elsewhere awkwardly. "I'm, eh, I'm gonna go to bed then. Been a day." And he started for the stairs.

It probably wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, Harry knew, but then again he was supposed to be trying. If things were going to change, that would require actual attempts to change things. He couldn't just continue on the same way he had been and expect things to get better. True, they might not get any worse, but it would leave them stuck where they already were. 

"Eggsy, wait," he said before he could talk himself into staying silent. "Would you like to…? Well, I was thinking perhaps you might want to start sleeping with me. In my bed," he added, feeling the need to clarify. 

Halting at hearing his name and turning back, Eggsy listened, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise as Harry finished. He'd written that off as a possibility a few weeks ago, though he didn't feel strongly one way or the other. But it was sort of nice that he was offering. Maybe he did mean it that he was going to try. They could try for the night, see how it went, he figured. "Yeah. Sure, why not?" He smiled lightly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Harry hadn't really expected Eggsy to agree, given how sullen he'd seemed the past few days, so it was a bit of a shock to hear him actually accept. "Alright," he said, nodding once. "Just um... don't move your things in quite yet." That hadn't been quite what he had meant to say, and he winced internally as soon as the words were out, but it was too late. He closed his eyes briefly and started up the stairs, heading for his room, half-convinced Eggsy wouldn't follow him after that last little comment. 

Eggsy smirked a bitter sort of smirk to himself as Harry turned and left. _ Don't move your things in _ . He hadn't planned on it, hadn't planned on doing anything aside from grabbing his phone charger so it didn't die, but that was an indicator of Harry’s feelings, certainly. Most likely he didn't really want to be sharing his space with him, didn't actually want what he must have blurted out. 

Eggsy could understand that, but it didn't make it less of a put-down, especially when it was Harry’s bloody idea in the first place. 

After Harry climbed the stairs, Eggsy let his head thunk against the wall as he took a deep breath, then he climbed up after him. 

Once he came to the door of Harry's room, he stopped, leaning on the frame and folding his arms as he stood there. "Do you wanna maybe raincheck this? Ask me again when you've given it some more thought, and you're sure you're okay with it or something?"

Harry was digging a ratty old shirt out of the depths of his closet when Eggsy asked the question. Normally he slept without a shirt, but Eggsy had enough to worry about without adding the criss-crossing patchwork of scars patterning his torso to the pile. "I  _ have _ thought about it," he said, pausing in his search. "Every day since you've moved in. But there's no sense in you hauling everything in only to take it all back out if this disagrees with one or the other of us."

Eggsy thought for a moment; maybe that made sense. Harry did seem to have an issue of misspeaking to him every now and then. Nodding again, he turned around, going into his room and grabbing his charger. While he was there, he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed away his socks, leaving him in his baggy plaid pyjama pants. He called it good enough and turned to head back to Harry's room. He stood at the doorway again, hovering and waiting as if Harry was about to tell him he’d changed his mind.

By the time Eggsy had returned, Harry had found a suitably worn shirt and shrugged into it, pulling on a pair of soft flannels to go with them. He was in the process of hanging his suit back up when he spotted Eggsy hovering in the doorway, looking uncertain. 

With a slight sigh, Harry finished putting up his suit and moved over to the bed. He slipped in underneath the covers on one side before glancing pointedly over at him. "The bed is a lot more useful once you've gotten in it," he said wryly.

Well, he wasn't changing his mind. Eggsy stepped into the room, making for the unoccupied side of the bed. Setting his phone to the side, he climbed in, doing his best not to remember the harsh tone of the text from just two days ago reading  _ 'I'd greatly appreciate it if you got out of my room.' _ True, circumstances were different, but still. He settled in appreciatively; Harry’s mattress was more comfortable than the one he’d been using in the guest room. 

Harry was unreasonably tense as Eggsy settled in beside him, the unfamiliar weight causing the mattress to dip and making Harry a touch uncomfortable. This was his husband, he reminded himself. Husbands were supposed to sleep together, and he had actually been quite lucky that Eggsy had been willing to give him more time on his own than he was owed. That didn't mean he was going to instantly get used to it. Grateful for the bruise that marred the right side of his face, Harry turned so that his left cheek was resting on the pillow, his back to Eggsy. 

Eggsy wasn't exactly relaxed either. He was used to stretching out, playing on his phone, his head on one pillow with the other held in his arms. Those didn't exactly feel appropriate now; and of course, it had been forever since he had shared a bed with someone, and it was usually only after a romp before he left in the morning. So it was a touch awkward, especially with the odd relationship he and Harry had. But still, he was calm, even with the unfamiliar weight beside him as well. "Night then," he hummed, resting one hand on his chest as he lay on his back, trying to relax.

"Goodnight, Eggsy." Harry reached over to switch off the one lamp that was still on, plunging the room into a near-total darkness. A thin strip of moonlight filtered in from around the curtained window, but that was all the illumination that was provided. 

With the loss of his eyesight came the heightening of his other senses, and Harry could feel the warmth emanating from Eggsy at his back, hear him breathing beside him. It was... comforting in a strange sort of way. Absently, without even realizing he was doing it, his thumb rubbed once over his wedding band before his eyes slid closed. 

It took Eggsy awhile to fall asleep, feeling odd with another presence beside him, making him hyper-aware of his breathing and the small twitches his body made as he began to drift off. But eventually he did manage it, one hand behind his head and the other on his chest, a bit close to the edge and more folded in on himself than usual to save space and hopefully not expand and flop around too much in the night.

Harry's eyes might have been closed, but that didn't mean he was sleeping. It had been too long since he'd slept with someone for him to find falling asleep easy, and he kept feeling shifts and gives in the mattress that wouldn’t have been there if he was on his own. Still, he forced himself to lie still, not wanting to move around and disturb Eggsy. Didn't really want to kick him out of bed either. Well. Maybe a little, but he wasn't going to. Eventually, Harry drifted off, a light sleeper by nature which proved no different that night. 

Unfortunately, however strong one's intentions may be, it is nearly impossible to control what one does in their sleep. Despite how much Eggsy wanted to keep to himself, give Harry his space in the bed, wishing hard all while falling asleep that he didn't do anything stupid in his sleep, it wasn't in his control. 

Maybe it was that he slept holding onto a pillow, maybe a leftover reflex from when Daisy would climb into his bed at night, maybe muscle memory of sharing a bed with the various men and women he'd slept with, or maybe Eggsy was just like this. But sometime in the night, when he had fallen well and truly asleep, he began to toss about. Small at first, flipping to one side, then the other, and then his body seemed to sense another body and decide it was free game. He scooted over a bit, closer to Harry's back, and loosely draped an arm around his waist, mumbling incoherently in his sleep as he shifted to make himself comfortable.

Harry half-woke when Eggsy started tossing beside him, used to being on a hair string trigger due to the nature of his job. It took him only a second to ascertain where he was and come to the conclusion that Eggsy was not a threat. He relaxed until he was nearly asleep again when he felt Eggsy's arm snake around his waist, the warmth at his back growing more intense. Stiffening, he cranked his head back as far as he could, which still didn't allow him to see much of his husband, dark as it was. "Eggsy? Are you awake?" he hissed quietly.

Eggsy was most decidedly not. But at the sound of his name, he stirred, shifting again and making a low sound in his throat. His grip tightened reflexively and loosened again as he settled back down, back asleep again. 

For a second Harry thought he Eggsy might actually be awake, but when he didn't do anything more than settle in a little more thoroughly he realized Eggsy was still asleep. Well then. That left Harry in a little bit of a situation. He could always peel Eggsy’s arm off, of course, but he might wake him up and, if he didn't, there was every possibility Eggsy would just sling himself over Harry again. With a short sigh, he decided to just deal with it. Closing his eyes and letting himself be somewhat comforted by Eggsy's body heat, Harry fell back asleep. 

Eggsy slept for awhile after that, comfortable and subconsciously pleased to be holding onto something. His dreams were as they always were, boring and close to life. He was driving the Aventador, speeding along an empty road and playing his favourite music. He was sitting in a pub with his friends, throwing pretzels and laughing about the stupid sweater Jamal's girlfriend was making him wear. He was holding Daisy, grinning with her as he gave her an ice cream cone.

And then the dreams shifted. Dean was there, laughing his rude laugh, face redder than usual. "Can't even get fucking right can you, son?" Daisy suddenly gone from his arms, Eggsy turned angrily away from him, and suddenly he was in his room, the room from his old flat. He heard a noise from behind him, and he turned around again, just in time to watch as a body pushed him up against a wall. "Keep quiet," it breathed, wedging a leg between both of his own and ripping at his shirt to expose his throat and upper chest. 

Eggsy was breathless, bending to the person's apparent will by tilting his head, offering up his throat for the other to attack with his lips and teeth. 

Just as he was trying to figure out who it was, it became apparent; it was that football star he'd had a crush on for awhile, hair styled perfectly, still in his jersey. Well, okay. He let the Frenchman tear his clothes off, kissing him hard as his hands slid beneath his pants to grope his arse and then his crotch. 

Eggsy hummed and moaned appreciatively as the man rubbed at his cock, encouraging it as it hardened in his hand. "Strip and get on the bed for me, Eggsy," he commanded, and the accent was enough to make his knees weak. He readily threw off the rest of his clothes to lie on his bed, his cock hard and lying flat on his belly. 

In the few seconds he looked away, the person must have changed. When he looked back, a slight girl was smirking at him, shrugging out of her shirt and tugging up her short skirt, revealing a lace bra and thigh high tights attached to garters. And no panties. His cock throbbed. "Good boy," she purred, kneeling on the bed between his legs and flipping her hair back. Natalie Dormer?

"You need to stay quiet for me, Eggsy. Don't want to get caught, do you?" She sank down, confidently wrapping her hand around his dick and pulling it to her lips, licking up its length once and making him suffer with anticipation. "Be good for me, and I'll make it worth it," she promised with a sly wink, and sank her mouth onto his cock. 

Eggsy bit down on his lip to keep from gasping, his hands grasping the sheets tightly beneath him. His eyes closed, allowing him to enjoy the heat, the wetness, spreading and making his entire body feel warm and tingly. "Fuck," he sighed, tilting his hips upward for more. 

"Ah, ah, ah," she tutted, pulling off of him. He was about to protest, but next he knew she was holding his hips down while her other hand was pressing fingers against his hole, wet and insistent. "I told you to be good, naughty boy. You mustn't move." 

Eggsy’s breath hitched as he fought back another curse when the fingers pushed inside him at the same instant as the mouth sank back on him. " _ Shit _ ," he said, voice barely above a whisper. He pulled at the sheets again as the fingers slowly pushed in and pulled out of him, fucking him gently as the mouth sucked at him sweetly. It wasn't enough, he wanted more, harder, faster. "Please," he said, arching his back. "Please-"

The fingers pushed impossibly deeper into him, rubbing at his prostate, and Eggsy nearly cried out, his eyes squeezing shut. "Eggsy." This voice was lower, smooth and crisp, calling his name as the fingers slid back out of him. "Look at me."

His eyes opened again as he propped himself up, expecting the woman, but instead finding the warm brown eyes he'd come to know staring back at him. "Do you want this?" Harry was poised over him, still dressed in one of his many very nice suits, but with his cock out, hard and wanting, and Eggsy felt the overwhelming need to have it inside of him right that instant. 

"Yes," he said quietly, biting down on his lip and pushing his hips down, beckoning him.

Harry apparently needed nothing more, because the moment Eggsy agreed, he was pushing into him, rapidly filling him up. 

Eggsy brought a hand to his mouth to bite down on a knuckle to keep from making noise.

"No," Harry breathed, leaning down and pulling away Eggsy’s hand as he froze, buried inside of him. "I want to hear you."

"But you said-" Eggsy started, his abdominal muscles clenching and twitching, wanting him to move.

"I said I want to hear you." Harry pressed his lips to the corner of Eggsy's mouth sweetly, right before his hips snapped back and thrust into him again. Eggsy couldn't help it. Even if he still wasn't allowed to speak, he cried out suddenly from the pleasure of it all, warmth heightened at his crotch but spreading throughout his whole body.

"Fuck!" he gasped as Harry fucked into him, holding his legs at his knees and pushing them back to go deeper into him. It felt amazing, better than the last fuck he'd had, he didn't want it to stop. "Harry-"

"Eggsy," he said, voice as even as though they were having a casual conversation. His styled hair was becoming unruly, curling and falling in his face, the glasses that had been there before now suddenly gone. "Eggsy?"

With one more thrust, Eggsy gasped and his eyes flew open as he woke, heart beating fast. He didn't remember where he was, or why there was a body pressed close to him. Fuck, close enough to maybe notice the rather prominent erection he was sporting. Realization hitting him, he immediately pulled away and rolled over onto his side, curling in on himself and facing away from Harry’s sleeping form. 

Eggsy shut his eyes tight, as though that would negate the suddenness of his movement and make him seem more asleep, desperately hoping Harry hadn’t noticed nothing, or at least couldn't feel his heart beating fast in his chest.

Usually when he had a dream like this, he would have a quick wank and go back to bed. It happened, he wasn't embarrassed about it. This time however, this time he was embarrassed. Of all times. Of all fucking times.

Eggsy didn't even check his phone, afraid the noise or light would wake Harry, and he really didn't want to face him with an almost painful boner pressed against his thigh.

Harry didn't dream much, not when he was on a mission and not when he was at his home, the light almost half-sleep he always had not allowing for his subconscious to take hold. He had flickers sometimes, images that flashed quickly before his eyes, played for a few seconds (might have been called memories), and then were gone, submerging him back into the welcoming darkness. 

Tonight, however, he was in the middle of something that could be called a nightmare, if anything. He'd been careless. Stupid. Gotten himself captured and now some man dressed in all black (a bit stereotypical, but Harry wasn't going to question his fashion choices when he had an array of knives at his disposal) was pacing back and forth in front of him. 

A flurry of Russian flew from the man’s mouth and his hand moved to strike Harry across the face, opening another split in Harry's already worried lip. 

Harry wasn't completely fluent in Russian, but he caught enough to get the gist. The man wanted to know what Kingsman was. 

Harry knew what Kingsman was. The organization he was almost in, the agency that he was, apparently, going to die for. He'd been so close. The title of Galahad was dancing in front of his eyes, and now this Russian bastard was going to ruin the best chance he'd had in his life. The man's face came into view again, fingers gripping vice-like around his chin. Another question screamed in his face. 

Harry couldn't move his hands, not with his wrists tied to the arms of the chair his legs were also bound to. There was a third rope around his waist for good measure and it, strangely enough, ran hot, near burning his skin. It tightened as the man spoke and Harry used the only offensive option left to him. He spit right in his eye. 

A shot of satisfaction lanced through Harry as his antagonist stumbled backwards, swearing and pawing at his eye. He got his first hint that that might not have been the best idea when the Russian glared over at him, muttering darkly. Before he had time to get properly frightened, there was a blade at his throat, and Harry tipped his head back as far as he could, trying to avoid the inevitable. 

"What is Kingsman?" the man whispered in his ear. 

Harry pressed his lips and eyes closed and waited to die. 

Something moved in his bed, and Harry was awake in a flash, reflexes fired up and ready. He sat bolt upright, hands automatically reaching out to grab whoever it was that was trying to hurt him. His fingers locked around an arm and his other hand came up to where he judged the man's throat to be. He flipped him over onto his back, leg swinging over his hips to straddle him, using his own weight to hold whoever it was down.  

That. That was literally the exact polar opposite of what Eggsy had wanted to happen. He’d been panicked over having a wet dream in Harry's bed, but that was buried now beneath the fresh panic of what the fuck was happening. He was being pinned down, his arm grabbed painfully and a hand at his throat. His heart physically hurt with how fast it was beating. "Harry--" Eggsy managed, squirming a bit in the uncomfortable and painful position. "Let go--"

As soon as Harry heard Eggsy's voice, he came back to himself and realized what was going on, what he was doing. In other words, he realized how royally he'd fucked up. He'd just spent the whole evening promising to keep Eggsy safe, and here he was threatening to choke him out in the middle of the night. "Shit," he hissed, instantly releasing his hold on him and recoiling until he was on his own side of the bed again. 

As soon as he was released, Eggsy leaped from the bed, standing up and pacing as one hand flew to rub his throat. His heart still hurt, throbbing painfully against his ribs as though it was a size too small for all the blood in his body. He was trying not to have flashbacks and a panic attack; he would probably pass out at this rate if he started hyperventilating. He'd been grabbed by the throat before, been held down, and fuck it, he was  _ not  _ doing that again. "The  _ fuck  _ was that about, eh?" Eggsy snapped, still pacing to keep moving, trying to work through the adrenaline that threatened to make him sick.

Harry looked up at Eggsy once he started pacing the room, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn't quite shake off the lingering terror of the nightmare (memory), but he could at least do enough to mask it. "I'm sorry, Eggsy, I'm so, so sorry," he said quietly, not getting up, not going to him. That would only make things worse. "It was a... I just..." He closed his eyes and raked a hand through his hair. "Nightmare. Sorry." 

"Fuck... Fucking..." Eggsy sighed, rubbing aggressively at his face, shaking his head and taking a breath as he stopped his pacing. In the very back of his mind, he knew there had to be a reason for this, that Harry’s nightmare must have been bad, but right now, he couldn't make himself consider it. 

Right now, Eggsy was trying to figure if he could even stay here tonight, in this house, let alone in this room. His empathy was out of commission. "Christ. You gonna try and fucking murder me every time you have a nightmare, then, if we ever share a bed? God..." He was calming down now, getting his head back on straight.

This had been a mistake, obviously, but at least Eggsy seemed to be growing a little calmer, if the fact that he was no longer pacing frantically was any indication. Slowly, Harry got to his feet, taking a few steps in his direction. 

Eggsy was his now, and he was Eggsy's. They had to work out some way not to be afraid of each other. He came to a halt a few feet in front of him, sighing. "No. This was something of a rare occurrence," he admitted.  

When Harry approached, Eggsy didn't back away, but he folded his arms across his chest and looked at him with knitted brow. He didn't want to be afraid of him, and he really couldn't bring himself to truly fear him, even with all the proof staring him in the face that he had every single reason on earth to be. The injuries, the warnings, the deceit and secrecy, the outright subconscious attempt to restrain and subdue him in his sleep, all of them amounted to a neon sign that said 'get the fuck away from him.' But Eggsy still couldn't do it. He just didn't feel like Harry would intentionally hurt him. But after that, the wet dream was probably as close to Harry as he was going to get for awhile. 

"You gotta fucking swear to me, Harry. I get you ain't used to another person, but you can't fucking do that to me, Harry, not you, y-- ... You can’t do that to me, alright?" 

The full implications of what he'd done hit Harry in that moment, and his eyes softened, shoulders slumping forward in defeat. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Eggsy came from an abusive home, what with how cheerful he always was. But now, seeing him with his arms folded defensively over his chest and the slight note of desperation in his voice, Harry was reminded in no uncertain terms that Eggsy was used to facing hands that were legitimately trying to hurt him. 

"It won't happen again. I swear, Eggsy," he said as sincerely as he could. "But I think it's probably best if you go back to the other room for tonight." 

No fucking shit. Eggsy rubbed at his face again and grabbed for his phone, side-stepping Harry to get to the door. Eggsy paused once he reached it, as though wondering if he should say something, but thought better of it, nodding once to himself and hitting the doorframe in a soft pat on his way out. 

With that amount of panic draining out of him, there was no way Eggsy could sleep now. He was too wired, too on edge for sleep. So for lack of anything else to do, he retreated downstairs. 4 A.M. give or take. He was going to be fucked all day, but maybe people in America would be up to play with him online, keep his mind off... everything. 

Eggsy put on his headphones and turned on the lights to keep his eyes from hurting. Then he wrapped himself in his blanket and sat on the couch with his legs tucked underneath him.

Harry glanced at the clock and groaned. It was only an hour until he had to be up anyways. There wasn't much point in him going back to sleep, no matter how tired he still was. He leaned back against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling, watching the darkness go from utter black to a tinged gray, thoughts going round and round. 

There was no escaping it. He had to touch Eggsy. Or at least let Eggsy touch him. It would be the best reminder that there was, in fact, someone else in his house. This isolation that they had given themselves wasn't doing Harry any favors in acclimating himself towards married life, and it was very obviously having negative consequences. But would Eggsy even want that, given what had just transpired? He doubted it. 

His alarm went off, interrupting his thoughts, and he dragged himself out of bed, making his way towards his closet. There was nothing to be done about it now. Work called. 

It took Harry a bit longer than usual to make himself presentable and he still didn't look top notch once he was done, not with the bags under his eyes and the barely-faded bruise. In fact, he looked pretty hellish. More desk work was in his future, but that at least meant he might be able to nip out early, get home while Eggsy was still awake. It was all the plan he had. 

Eggsy didn't have much of a plan. One of the perks of being a stay-at-home husband was the absolute lack of anything he needed to do that day if he didn't feel like it. So he'd be playing video games to drown out everything until he felt tired enough to fall asleep nearly instantaneously, and then do whatever he liked until bed again. Though, Eggsy would have to ask himself a few questions when the time came. But for now, he didn't want to think. He wanted to shoot things. And there he remained, for quite some time. The volume was turned up too loud on the headphones, and with where he was positioned, Harry could go right past him and he'd be none the wiser.

Harry slipped his glasses on, finished knotting his tie and headed down the stairs, already shrugging into his jacket. He'd catch breakfast somewhere other than home, if he ate at all. He was halfway to the door before he paused. Given the limited amount of time he actually got to spend with Eggsy, he figured it would be better to put every opportunity to use when it came to his new scheme. He hesitated before walking back over to where Eggsy was seated on the couch, seemingly absorbed in his video games. Carefully, he reached out one hand, hesitating before he rested it on his shoulder. "Eggsy?" 

As a seemingly sudden hand touched his shoulder, he jumped. Instinctively he pulled his headphones off, looking up at Harry and blinking a few times. "Harry? What, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Harry reassured him, keeping his hand on his shoulder even though he really just wanted to pull it back off. It was awkward, this, especially given the lengths he'd gone to to avoid Eggsy prior to this. "I'm leaving. Just thought... you might want to know," he mumbled, and then he did drop his hand. 

"Oh." Eggsy blinked again, and managed a slight smile. There was a lot going on between them right now, tension, problems, mistrust, but still, he recognized the effort. Harry had no cause to come to see him before he left, especially if it was just to tell him as much; it was literally unprecedented. Maybe it was an awkward way to attempt an apology for the previous night. "Take your face easy today, eh? I'll see you later, Harry."

Relieved that Eggsy was also trying to make the best of things, Harry nodded. "I'll keep that advice in mind. See you later, Eggsy." And with that he was leaving, heading out the door with at least some of the weight of before off his mind. 


	9. A Bet

After Harry left, Eggsy continued playing his game, albeit with less gusto than before. He was snapped out of his concentration, brought back to life somewhat. He only lasted another two hours before he deemed himself sufficiently tired to pass out, hopefully without dreams this time.

The rest of the day saw him frustrated. He woke up at 1 P.M., thoroughly disoriented by waking in the middle of the day, with upwards of 12 hours before Harry would be back. But did Eggsy want him to come back? 

He frowned to himself as he touched his throat and stared at his wedding ring, remembering the sudden attack in the night, the sad realization he’d seen flit across Harry’s face when he put together exactly why he was so upset. Harry was… a complicated package. There was a whole thing he was involved in that Eggsy apparently couldn't know about and just had to trust would end up okay. He could have been in the mafia or an organized crime operation of some sort, he could be a serial killer, he could be Tyler fucking Durden, he could be a fucking wannabe superhero vigilante for all Eggsy knew. He was certainly prone to instinctive violence, that was a bad sign. But still, he seemed to be making an actual effort now that he'd gathered the isolation and desperation Eggsy had been feeling. He wasn't certain what to do about anything. 

Especially with the bed situation. Eggsy was probably going to stay in his own until he felt safe with Harry again. Nothing could be done about that other than waiting. Part of him wanted to tell someone, to get a second opinion, but once again, he refused to. Eggsy rubbed his face, still red around the eyes.

-

Another day of little substance passed by, and Harry wondered what he had even thought about before Eggsy came into his life. This job had become the place where he could internally work out his marriage issues. Today was no exception. 

Even as he was copying over figures, his mind was mulling over what was to be done, if anything. He was half-expecting to come home to an empty place, Eggsy's things packed and gone, the man himself far away. Harry had tried to murder him in his sleep. That couldn’t be easy to forgive.

Nevertheless, Eggsy had surprised him before. He could very well do so again. 

Kingsman came and went much in the manner he expected; Merlin took one look at his face and sent him right to his desk. Harry tried to act suitably annoyed, but his lack of recent missions meant he genuinely didn't have much paperwork to catch up on. The perks of getting your face pulped, he thought to himself. He cleared his schedule hours earlier than usual and was in the cab on the way to his house at 9:30.

By 9:00, Eggsy was still completely expecting to be alone for several more hours. He was on the couch again but this time, instead of video games, he was contentedly watching an old black and white movie (Some Like It Hot; after having seen a clip of the ending he'd been wanting to see it for ages) playing from the flashdrive sticking out of his PS3. He chuckled under his breath as he was live-texting his experience of the film. Call it the stress of the day, call it a night in, but he was also about two beers deep, and on an empty stomach as eating had slipped his mind that day. A lot had slipped his mind that day, actually.

Harry paused outside the door, key in hand but reluctant to fit it to the slot. If Eggsy really was gone standing out here wouldn't change it, but it would help him live in ignorance for a moment longer. Sighing, he stuck the key in the lock, turned it, and stepped through. The telly was on; he could hear the muted hum of voices from the entryway, and Harry sighed slightly in relief. That was a good sign. An even better sign was the back of Eggsy's head that he could see peeping over the sofa as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. "Dinner and a movie?" he asked. 

At least this time Eggsy had heard the door open, and wasn't too surprised by the sudden voice behind him. Apart from the surprise of Harry being there at any semblance of a reasonable hour, anyway. Eggsy didn't look up, in the middle of a message, but he did pause, staring at the screen in his hands. "Er. Well, a movie anyway, at the mo." He looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "Didn't expect you. You're home early, innit?"

"Finished early," Harry said by way of explanation. He folded his jacket over his arm, taking a moment to identify the film and raising an eyebrow once he had. "We could always have another cooking lesson," he offered. "After it's finished, of course."

Eggsy’s stomach certainly seemed to like that idea. "Yeah. Yeah, alright," he agreed, nodding as he looked away again. He  _ was _ hungry, and after spending all day away from Harry, he could do with testing the waters to see how he felt about him and everything that came with it; he wasn't entirely sure what his own feelings were, and he didn't really want to spend the mental exertion to find out. Movie then dinner, that he could do. "Got probably another 45 minutes or something."

Harry just nodded in response to that, wandering into the kitchen to take a quick glance at what ingredients were available to them. He dug out some ground beef and set it on a plate to thaw before making his way upstairs to his room. 

He loved suits, truly, but there was sometimes call to be a little less formal, and this probably counted as one of those times. So he changed into a soft, long-sleeved sweater and slacks. He hesitated but, at the last moment, left his glasses upstairs. Anything Merlin had to say to him could wait. He made his way back down with about twenty minutes to spare.

As time passed, Eggsy got more into his movie again and finished off his third beer of the film, leaving him with a pleasant buzz. 

When he glanced up at the sound of movement at the steps, he smirked lightly to himself but said nothing about it. Instead, he hummed once, back to looking at the telly. "You can still catch the end if you want. Apparently it’s the best part." He was sitting leaning on the arm of the couch, legs drawn up by his chest and as folded as someone as bulky as he was could be.

Harry had seen it (and the ending was indeed the best part), but he didn't say anything about that. He just wandered over to the armchair near the sofa and took a seat, noting the beer bottles. He didn't comment on those, either, just settled in to catch the last bit of the film.

Eggsy kept quiet after that for the ending, not wanting to miss anything. He did laugh where appropriate, a silent shake of the shoulders or a chuckle under his breath, with the exception of the last gag between Jerry and Osgood, one of his hands covering his lips as he watched with a grin, laughing properly after the very line he had watched the film for:  _ 'Well, nobody's perfect.' _ He buried himself in his phone to send off the proper reaction to the ending, and then looked up at Harry again as the film ended, a half-smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Sorry for the odd thing to come back to. Weakness for old shit like that, and this has been on my list for awhile."

Harry spent most of the time watching Eggsy instead of the film. He'd seen it, he knew what happened, and his husband looked as if he was enjoying himself. It was a nice look on him, one Harry didn't get to see too often. "I'm certainly not going to criticize you for liking old movies," Harry said once it had ended, thinking of his own limited collection. The few movies he did own were not products of the latest decades, to say the least.

"Suppose not; can't imagine you getting out to a theater much anyway to contest that 'Gravity' is much better. Overrated slag." He unfolded himself and pushed up from the couch to stand, stretching and yawning though he wasn't tired; he had only been up a few hours. 

"Cooking lesson you said, yeah? What are you gonna have me learn then?" he asked, keeping his eyes on what he was doing as he turned off the system and the television and gathered up his mess of bottles.

Harry got up when Eggsy did, heading to the kitchen to check on the meat he'd pulled out earlier. It seemed thawed enough. "It might not really be a lesson this time," he admitted. "Lasagna is fairly simple." 

"Going easy on me? I'd fight you on that if it weren't necessary,” Eggsy said with a smirk as he dumped the bottles into the recycling bin. 

Harry let out a snort of amusement, shaking his head. "More in the mood for lasagna than anything else," he said, pulling out the noodles and setting them on the counter. "If you wouldn't mind browning the meat." 

Eggsy just hummed in acknowledgment and went to grab a skillet and set it on the burner. Everything was more or less the same as always, same casual tone, same easy banter, with the one exception being the berth he now gave Harry. While he had never been too physically close to him as Harry didn't seem to appreciate touch to begin with, now Eggsy allotted extra space, edging around him to get to the meat and leaning the other way to grab the pan. It was subtle, he wasn't doing so to make a point, but it was still there. Eggsy stood at the burner, heating it up and tapping the counter to a beat in his head quietly as he waited.

Harry noticed it, of course he did. He'd been trained to read people, spot abnormalities in them, and he was quite used to Eggsy's behaviors by now. What he didn't know was whether or not Eggsy was doing it for Eggsy or for Harry. It was entirely plausible that he was doing it because he was scared of him, now that he'd practically strangled him in his sleep. Less likely was the possibility that he was doing it because he thought Harry needed space. 

Sighing internally, Harry walked Eggsy through the instructions, careful to avoid him as well. 

Harry was right, it wasn't that difficult to make. It was, however, rather time intensive. During the first round of the 'stand and let cook' sections once he had run out of things to clean, he grabbed his now fourth beer of the night from the six pack in the fridge he’d bought earlier that day and made his way to stand at the spot on the counter that was, by now, his space. He was looking at Harry with slightly raised eyebrows, somewhere between studying and appraising him.

Harry lost himself a bit in the rhythm of the preparation, allowing his favorite hobby to come to the forefront of his mind. He did so many violent things that it was nice to break it up sometimes with the peacefulness that was cooking. All too soon, though, the lasagna was popped into the oven, and they had to wait until it finished to do any more work on it. He watched Eggsy get another beer, again letting it pass without comment and settled opposite him, arms at his sides. "Have I got something on my face?" he asked after a moment of silence stretched between them. 

"Well, no," Eggsy said, a half-smirk again pulling at his lips. "And I like the change of clothes. Didn't know you owned more than suits and pyjama bottoms."

Harry glanced down at his sweater and slacks, shaking his head slowly. "Believe it or not, I don't always feel the need to dress formally," he said wryly. 

"Then this must be your version of sweatpants," Eggsy teased, taking a sip of his drink and willing himself not to feel awkward. He had too many things to think about; he just wanted nothing to change from before, wanted to forget the last three days had happened. If that meant forcing small talk for a bit until he broke through whatever wall this was, so be it. That's what alcohol was for. Drink.

One of Harry's eyebrows inched up slightly. "I believe I do have a pair of actual sweatpants hiding somewhere in the depths of my closet," he mused, wondering when the last time he'd even seen them was. He didn’t wear them often, but he'd gotten horrendously sick once and Merlin had insisted he take care of himself. In the magician's world, that had meant sweatpants, and Harry had bought a pair just to shut him up. "I'm not sure I've ever worn them." 

Slowly, Eggsy's smirk turned to a grin. "Well, now you gotta try them on then. You can’t dangle a gem like that in front of me and not come through." Being used to Harry with the severe glasses and the suit, the image of him with baggy sweatpants and no glasses was far less imposing. Almost comical, in a good way.

"I don't even know if I still have them," Harry protested. "I could very well have given them away to some poor sod who actually wears sweatpants years ago." Sweatpants were the least practical things he could think of to wear, and he'd be damned if he'd be talked into it so easily. 

"Well, you're about to be the poor sod that wears them. In your closet, you said?" Eggsy checked the timer they had set for the oven, and sure enough, there was plenty of time for a mini-excursion. "Best go check and see, yeah?" 

Leaving the bottle on the counter, he pushed up, making his slow way to the door, walking backwards. "And since closets are where people stuff their secret shit, you should probably come with me and look for them too, unless you want me digging around," he hummed, smirking playfully.

Harry would have found that more amusing if he didn't actually have secret shit stored in his closet. Groaning and throwing in an eye-roll for good measure, he started after Eggsy, increasing his pace so he reached the stairs first. He made his way up them until he reached his closet. Quickly, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Eggsy hadn't come in yet, he assured himself that the small, moveable panel was sufficiently hidden. Then he actually started looking for the sweatpants. 

Though Eggsy was joking, he also had no doubt there was plenty of other 'secret shit' in Harry’s room, hidden, but not so hidden that a curious Eggsy wouldn't happen upon it. He stopped at the door, folding his arms and leaning on the frame complacently. "Any luck, bruv?"

Harry discovered he had far more clothes than he remembered as he dug through his closet. There was a small chest of drawers at the back that he eventually came to, and he tugged open the bottom one. "Oh no," he groaned as he pulled out a pair of dark blue sweatpants. 

As soon as Eggsy caught sight of those beautiful dark blue pants, his face split into a proper grin. "Oh yes," he said, standing upright again with his hands in his pockets. "And they're blue, you'll look right dashing in them," he continued to tease. 

Rising to his feet, Harry held them at arm's length, looking at them distastefully. "If you think I'm putting these on, I'm afraid you're sorely mistaken," he said. 

"And if  _ you _ think I'm letting you get away with _ not _ wearing them,  _ you _ are the one that is 'sorely mistaken.'" Eggsy was still grinning, one eyebrow raised, head tilted as he watched him. That look was one to commit to memory right there. "They're comfy. And it's just me here, so who gives a shit."

Harry glanced over at him skeptically, admiring the challenging look on Eggsy's face. "I would very much like to see how you intend to make me put these sweatpants on," he said dryly. 

"Depends how stubborn you wanna be on this. I can be more stubborn, I promise you that." Eggsy did snicker now, taking some steps into the room towards him. "I'll start with just asking nicely. So, Harry, would you please put on these lovely sweatpants?" Eggsy smiled sweetly, batting his eyelashes as though that would help. All the while his amused and playful look remained in his eye.

Curious to see where, and how far, Eggsy would actually take this, Harry let the sweatpants fall to the floor, trapping them under one foot and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest. "I think you'll find I can be pretty stubborn myself. I'm not putting those abominations on."

Looking offended, Eggsy touched his chest as though hurt, but he snorted and tilted his head, smug smirk coming back. "I, your husband, am asking you to put on these wonderful, comfortable sweatpants as a personal favour," he tried again, switching tactics and taking another step toward him.

Playing the husband card, was he? Harry hadn't been expecting it so early on in the game, but he had just as much claim to it as Eggsy did. "And I, your husband, am asking you to respect my choices in what I do and do not choose to wear," he countered, not budging an inch from where he stood. 

Ooh, stalemate. Eggsy had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep the smirk back, quite pleased to be playing this game. Very well. He'd played nice. "Then what do you want? I'll trade you for something, make it even."

"I want," Harry started, kicking at the pair of pants at his feet, "to put these back in that drawer where they belong and forget I own them again." 

Was  _ Eggsy  _ this frustrating? Probably, actually. "Then tomorrow, I'm gonna use your money and buy you so many pairs of sweatpants. Stuff them in all sorts of places. Fill your bed with them."

Harry's eyebrows lifted and he scoffed. "And you think the mere presence of sweatpants is going to make me want to wear them, do you?" he asked, wondering what on earth had made him come up with such a scheme. 

"No," Eggsy shrugged, chuckling. "More of a deliberate annoyance. A reminder on your penny that I ain't happy because you won’t put on a single pair of fucking  _ sweatpants. _ " He tapped his foot, looking pointedly down at them.

Harry fell quiet for a moment, considering relenting for the briefest of seconds. "It's against my religious principles," he finally said, refusing to untrap the pants from the hold his foot currently retained.

Eggsy snorted and rolled his eyes, grinning as he shook his head. "At least mine was true. I think if you're resorting to 'religious principles' for not wearing pants, I've pretty much won, and you're just making up reasons to say no. You lose."

Harry stood there for a second, but he couldn't find a flaw in Eggsy's logic. He admitted defeat by passing a hand over his face and groaning loudly before bending to retrieve the abused pants. "Fine, yes, I suppose you-" Then he straightened up, dropping them right back to the floor. "The lasagna," he whispered dramatically, right as the timer on the stove went off.

"Oh, you motherfucker,” Eggsy snorted, rolling his eyes and bending down to grab them himself as they were no longer trapped beneath his foot. "Fine, go and take it out, but I ain't letting this go that easy." 

It was a reprieve, however brief, and Harry was taking it. He slid past Eggsy and made his way back down the stairs, the kitchen timer urging him to hurry. He switched it off as soon as it was in reach, removing the lasagna from the oven and setting it atop the stove to let it cool before they did anything more with it. 

Eggsy flipped the pants over his shoulder as he ambled after Harry slowly, descending the stairs and rounding the corner casually. By the time he rejoined Harry, the lasagna was sitting on the stove, the smell of it hitting him like a wall. He inched over to the pan to follow the smell, reaching out as if about to touch it and take some straight out of the pan with his bare hands. He even forgot to give Harry the space he had been giving earlier, unafraid to be standing right beside him.

Harry firmly guided Eggsy’s hand away from the pan, glancing over at him sternly. "This, Eggsy, is  _ my _ lasagna, and if you want any you're going to have to give up on that idea of seeing me in those," he said, nodding towards the sweatpants draped over Eggsy's shoulder.

Well, that just wasn't fair. That was playing dirty. "That's probably the worst ultimatum I've had given to me. Sweatpants or lasagna. ... Right then." Nodding once and looking stubborn as ever, Eggsy hopped up to sit on the counter as he pulled his phone out of his pants, making sure the sweatpants were still properly draped on him and safe. He hit a few buttons and raised the phone to his ear, looking directly at Harry as it rang.

Harry's look of smug satisfaction at Eggsy's lamentation turned to one of pure confusion as he pulled out his phone and dialed. Who could he possibly be calling to change Harry's mind on his choice of attire? "Eggsy, who-?"

When the phone was picked up, Eggsy smiled politely, still looking Harry in the eye. "Evening. Yeah, I'm gonna make an order for delivery? Husband's refusing to share dinner. ... I know mate, fucking rude innit." 

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, Harry lurched forwards, reaching for the phone. "I am not being rude," he said loudly so whoever it was on the other side of the phone could hear him. "He wants me to wear sweatpants, of all things." 

Eggsy leaned back, keeping the phone out of reach. "Mhmm, yeah that's him. ... I know, bruv, over sweatpants. ... Yeah, he says 'sweatpants or dinner' and you see what I've chosen, eh?" He was grinning now, his free hand playing with one of the pant-legs draped on him.

Completely forgetting that he was trying to keep his distance from Eggsy, Harry leaned with him, still grappling for the phone. "They're impractical," he huffed. "And any  _ rational _ person would choose dinner." 

Eggsy moved the phone from his ear to keep holding it back further away from Harry, unable to keep his amusement away and the slight laugh from his voice. "I promised you I would be worse about it, didn't I? I ain't rational; I'm determined. You're putting them on, dinner or no dinner."

"You're only doing this because you've never tried my lasagna," Harry growled. "It's goddamn heavenly, and you would choose it over clothes." His grasping fingers finally managed to close around the phone, and he tugged it away from Eggsy, pressing it to his own ear. "I'm sorry you had to put up with this, sir or madam. You can cancel that order," he sighed, arching an eyebrow at Eggsy. 

He couldn't help it; he was laughing again at Harry's exasperation, hand lifted and hiding his mouth. The person on the other end -- and yes, there was a person there -- genuinely was from a food place, pizza actually, and sounded equal parts amused and confused at the antics on the other end of the line, but hung up not long after professing that it was alright, not wanting to waste more time hearing a married couple argue about god knows what.

"Look what you did with your ultimatum."

Harry looked down at the phone and hit the end call button. When he glanced back up at Eggsy, his face was perfectly innocent and he blinked once, tilting his head to the side. "What do you mean? It's still very much in place, and now," he lifted his hand, wagging the phone back and forth, "I've got the phone." 

Eggsy sighed dramatically, looking longingly at the pan not far beside him. "I guess I'll be going hungry."

There was no way Eggsy was legitimately choosing to go without dinner if he didn't get to see Harry in his sweatpants. Sighing, Harry carved out a section of it, depositing it on a plate and holding it out towards him. "Here. Eat it." 

Of course Eggsy took it, the combination of the overwhelmingly good smell and lack of food he'd had that day making the choice for him. Even with his stubbornness, he wasn't made of stone. He took it with a 'thanks,' hopping down off the counter finally. "You gonna keep my phone hostage, then?" 

"As long as those pants are still on your shoulder and not in the wastebin or my closet, yes," Harry said, slipping said phone into his pocket. "You suggested a trade earlier; I think I might have something of value now."

"I could take that as a challenge, you know. Lift it off you,” Eggsy hummed, unperturbed as he took his plate over to the table to sit down and dig into it, yielding to his stomach. 

Harry got himself a serving as well, taking his usual place at the head of the table. "How long?" he asked after he'd taken his first bite. 

Eggsy looked at him with a spark in his eye as he chewed his first bite, considering him. Harry was a bit of a wild card. He'd shown unexpected skills so maybe he could be ready for him, but then again, his run ins with posh types in the past told him he was particularly skilled in pickpocketing anyone, so it was up in the air. But he could get it done. "Give me an hour. I can lift it. Will you put the sweats on then?"

A gamble, it seemed. Harry considered that for a moment, eyes narrowing. There was no doubt in his mind that Eggsy had some experience in lifting things but, then again, so did Harry. "One hour," he agreed. "If you've got it by then, I'll put on the damn things."

Eggsy beamed at him with a wink, pleased he was playing along, and refocused his attention on the plate that was still unacceptably full. It was highly unlikely he could take it back during dinner anyway, but that didn't matter. He'd still get it, he was perfectly confident.

Harry returned to his own food wondering how, exactly, Eggsy was planning on retrieving his phone when he'd been taking pains to avoid him all evening. But that wasn't his problem. He just had to worry about keeping it right where it was. 

Eggsy remained quiet for the duration of dinner after that, too busy with eating to chat much. Harry was right, it was damn good. He got a little twitchy; it was instinct to take a photo of the food he helped make or to check his messages, and he already felt the emptiness in his pocket from the lack of his phone. 

Once plate one was gone, Eggsy hopped up to get himself more, calling over his shoulder: "You might find leftover servings of this in the fridge pretty often after this from how often I might make it for dinner. I'll make the excuse 'practice makes perfect.'"

Harry was still working on his first serving when Eggsy got up, but he looked up at him with a genuine smile. It had been a long time since he'd cooked for anyone other than himself, and he'd forgotten how nice a compliment could be. "I can't say I'd mind that much," he said, shrugging. 

Eggsy smiled back rather instinctively; Harry had quite a nice smile. "Good," he hummed as he made his way back over with more, plopping down in his seat. "And if I'm here all day, might as well do something that ain't games or movies."

"You could always take up knitting," Harry suggested dryly, his neutral tone giving no indication whether or not he was teasing or being serious. His eyes, though, sparkled with mirth and he ducked his head so he was looking at the lasagna instead of Eggsy. 

"Good idea," Eggsy said after a moment, smiling innocently. He couldn't be certain, damn Harry’s straight-faced humour was impeccable, but he was fairly certain he was fucking with him. So of course, he ran with it. "And book-club while I'm at it. You'll get home and I'll give you a poorly made scarf and insist you wear it while I tell you all about the book club meeting where Catherine, the tart, forgot to bring the biscuits even though it was her turn, Linda emailed her at least a hundred times, but I don't care much, I'm busy talking to Gwenyth and swapping recipes, lasagna for beef brisket, you like beef brisket?" he asked with a smile as charming as he could make it.

Harry’s blank expression melted into something more amused as Eggsy rambled on, and by the end of his brief monologue he was shaking his head slowly. Eggsy's imagination was endearing, at times. "Never had it, but I'm sure Gwyneth has a good recipe," he commented. "And what makes you think I would wear your poorly made scarf if I won't even wear well-made sweatpants?" 

Eggsy clicked his tongue, and returned his attention to his food, shaking his head rather sadly. "You did it, you found the single flaw in my plan. Guess the whole thing's off." 

"What, you don't think you could really find a group of middle-aged women who wanted to talk with you about literature? You underestimate yourself, Eggsy," Harry chastised. 

"I’m sure I could find a group of middle aged women that would talk to me about a lotta things," Eggsy snorted, finally pushing aside his plate and sitting back in his seat, looking at Harry.

Conceding that point with a nod, Harry lifted his last forkful of lasagna to his mouth. "You're very charming when you want to be. And your looks don't hurt your chances either." 

"Mhmm, middle aged women love me. They think I'm adorable," he grinned, pushing himself up to stand and grabbing his plate. He walked slowly, taking his dish to the sink to properly wash it, quite casually. He still had every intention of grabbing the phone and hoped to do so in the kitchen. After they finished eating, he had no idea what was going to happen, as Harry was home much earlier than usual. Routine dictated bed after this, but it was still early (for Eggsy anyway), only 11 or so, so bed didn't seem likely in his case. 

Would Harry go to bed? Eggsy had no idea what he would do if not, as he didn't seem to do... much of anything, really. Even outside stealing the phone, it would be good to learn what a Harry with down-time even did with himself. 

Chuckling lightly, Harry waited until Eggsy was working on his plate before scooting back his chair. He set his plate down on the counter near the sink and hesitated for a moment. But only a moment. Without preamble, he slipped one arm around Eggsy's waist from behind, not quite pressing up against him, but close. "If I were you," he muttered quietly, lips only centimeters away from his husband's ear, "I would take the opportunity I'm so charitably giving you right now." 

At the unexpected arm hooking around his waist, Eggsy was certainly surprised, but he did not jump. He'd seen Harry approaching from his periphery, giving him enough warning to not literally startle and look like an idiot. His eyes fell to look at it, hands unwittingly pausing in their task of washing as Harry spoke close to him. It was the proximity of another body and warm breath that made Eggsy shiver, that was all. Even with the incident yesterday, he couldn't help his body's natural reaction. He scoffed, resuming his cleaning after only a short pause as Harry spoke. "Don't work if you're expecting it, bruv. Anyone can tell you that." 

Harry stayed where he was a moment longer, contemplating what else he could do to draw another shiver like that out of Eggsy before deciding against it. Drawing him into something wasn't a good idea and he wasn't even sure he really wanted to. "I suppose you're right," he sighed, letting his arm fall away and pulling back. He began packing up the leftover lasagna, storing it in the fridge for the following day. 

Again surprised at the sudden withdrawal, Eggsy grabbed Harry's plate to clean while side-eyeing him and chewing on his tongue. That was rather confusing, the abrupt touching and and subsequent distance; boy, would he pay to figure out what was going on in Harry’s head. It certainly felt as though he never knew. He was reminded of the sudden bout of possessiveness that lasted just a few seconds on Eggsy’s first morning there, followed by weeks of distance. 

Shit like this was why Eggsy was reluctant to touch Harry even before the nighttime threat of strangulation.

It wasn't long before Eggsy was done, putting the dishes into the dishwasher. Harry's odd behaviour aside, he still needed that phone, and he wasn't going to get it from across the kitchen. Ambling over, he stood beside him with his hands in his own pockets, eyebrows raised in casual curiosity. "So what now then, eh? I been promised another 45 minutes at least."

What now indeed. In all honesty, Harry didn't do much when he wasn't at Kingsman or the office. He'd had plenty of reconnaissance missions where he'd had to lie in wait for hours and they'd taught him how to get by without doing much. That wasn't the case for Eggsy, he suspected. His eyes flicked to the clock and then out of the window and he shrugged. "Fancy a near-midnight stroll?" 

Blinking and glancing out the window, Eggsy shrugged a shoulder back, nodding agreeably. "Yeah, could do that." Didn't sound like a bad idea, especially being that he didn't actually get out of the house often, and missed exercise that day given that he’d had sleep to catch up on. 

Harry glanced down at the soft shirt he was still wearing and sighed. It was better than walking in a three piece suit, but it would still be odd going out in anything less than formal dress. "Shall we?" he asked, moving towards the door. 

Hands still in his pockets, Eggsy followed after him, feeling odd without his phone. He would have to get on with nicking it soon, maybe when they struck up a conversation or something.

Harry held the door open for Eggsy, not stepping out until he did. Then he turned back and locked it up, slipping his keys into the same pocket as Eggsy’s phone. "Where to?"

Eggsy was silent for a moment, looking over his shoulder to the dark street lit by the soft glow of street lamps. He turned back to Harry with a half-grin splitting his face, his shoulders hunched up and hands pushing down in his pockets. "I'd say 'you know around here better than me,' but I don't reckon that's true, actually. Ain't nothing open, but I like this way best," he said, jerking his head to the left. 

"Left it is, then," Harry said, starting off in that direction, his pace rather slower than it usually was. Eggsy was decidedly wrong, but he wasn't about to tell him that. When he'd first moved in, Harry had mentally catalogued every side street, back alley, and gated garden in his neighborhood. In the unlikely event that someone followed him home, he could weave around for hours.

Eggsy followed along, walking beside him. He always loved being outside at night, even when he wasn't really doing anything. Cold, dark, no one around. And he had to admit he was a sucker for night aesthetic, even if he would never use those words. He said nothing, just walked with a small, mostly unconscious smile as he got over his appreciation for being outside and started to plot how best to get that phone back. Harry would need to be thoroughly distracted.

If  _ he _ had been the one doing that stint in the kitchen, it may have worked, actually.

This was nice. This Harry could handle without the fear of fucking something up. There wasn't nearly as much that could go wrong on a night walk as could go wrong at home, and they'd already made it five minutes without incident. He breathed out a soft sigh of relief, barely audible. 

As they rounded the next corner, Harry reached one hand out, seeking out Eggsy's and tangling their fingers together. He was going to get this touch thing down if it killed him.

Besides, this was a good way of keeping thieving fingers out of his pockets

Dammit.

Eggsy pursed his lips in a mild sulk as Harry took his hand, lightly holding onto his in a casual and easily breakable grip. He had no problems holding his hand, obviously, but damn him, it would be much more apparent to swing his other hand around to dip into Harry’s pocket as he was planning to do around some corner or another. Very well, Eggsy could get creative. Letting Harry lead meant he didn't exactly know where they were, or what was coming up, so he was content to walk in the silence for a while longer, holding out another handful of minutes before he would have to come to the conclusion he'd have to invent his own diversion of some kind.

Harry kept his smug smile internal as he noticed Eggsy pursing his lips. It had been an obvious scheme, perhaps, but Eggsy couldn't break his hold without his own intentions being very clear. Chalk one up for him. 

Harry gave his surroundings a little more attention, thus assured that his husband wouldn't be able to get his phone back so easily. It was only then that he realized he didn't actually have a specific destination in mind and they'd just been wandering for the past few minutes. There wasn't much to really see in the neighborhood except for one small patch of grass that was jokingly called a park but was really just more of a field trying to be a park. Still, it was better than nothing, and Harry steered them in that direction. 

Maybe, Eggsy thought, he should stop being such a hermit, actually get out a little bit more and explore around. It was a little odd to be in this part of London, where there weren't flats jammed up next to each other and the scraps of land that weren't houses or businesses paved over and black. These places had driveways and these streetlamps were white, not orange, and the plot of land they were approaching actually had some decent grass. It wasn't lovely itself, but it was an interesting change. And it was midnight with no teenagers loitering around and smoking weed, weird. 

The grassy patch must have been where they were going. Eggsy could work with that. "Out of curiosity, how fast can you run?" Eggsy asked conversationally, tilting his head the bit he needed to look up at Harry with his eyebrows slightly raised.

The further they walked, the more Harry relaxed, the heat of Eggsy's palm beginning to be more reassuring than terrifying. He could, he thought, get used to this. Personal contact. Such a strange thing to be isolated from it yet crave it at the same time. It wasn't that he'd been entirely starved of touch, of course. Merlin and Lancelot occasionally rubbed shoulders or brushed hands and there was the rare honeypot mission. But it wasn't quite the same. 

Eggsy's question startled Harry out of his thoughts, and his brow furrowed. "I don't know specific mileage. Why?"

Eggsy only hummed acknowledgment of his answer, and very lightly squeezed his hand as he thought. Mileage would have been nice and all, but he was mostly looking for 'fast' or 'one of my many knee or ankle injuries means I can't run fast.' Not that he was legitimately considering that as something he needed to implement a plot to get his phone back. Just something to keep in mind. 

Once they approached the park, Eggsy dropped Harry's hand, craning his neck upward to see any blips of light from stars in the night sky. There weren't many there, but there weren't many at the flat, either.

Harry glanced over at Eggsy when he didn't answer the reason behind his rather strange query, but he didn't think the younger man noticed. It didn't much matter; he doubted Eggsy had been prodding for any significant reason anyways. The sudden release of his hand reminded him of the challenge still in place and he checked his watch as Eggsy checked the sky. "You've only got twenty minutes left, you know."

Eggsy glanced over his shoulder to look at him with a softened grin. "I timed it once. Record is four seconds with help, six alone. 20 minutes is way more than enough. If you rush these things, that's when you get caught. Of course, those people hadn't been aware we was about to pickpocket them.” 

As someone who had done his fair share of pickpocketing (mostly small items, to be sure, but he didn't suppose Eggsy was squirreling away big things either), Harry had to admit he was rather impressed. Six seconds was pretty quick to be in and out with the necessary item. Quick enough that he could probably handle himself in an agency like Kingsman... But Harry cut off that line of thinking almost immediately. The reason he wasn't telling Eggsy about it in the first place was to keep him safe; getting him into it would hardly accomplish that goal, even if things would get a hell of a lot easier. 

As with any target, Eggsy needed the proper distraction. Nothing had arisen on their walk, so he would have to make one himself. 

His usual go-to was distraction by seduction. Getting in close, flirting with his charming smile, stealing kisses as his hand slipped in and out and lifted the item before they had any idea. But somehow he didn't think that would work so well with Harry. Although... 

Eggsy blinked, looking back up at the sky, eyes narrowing slightly. Maybe the excuse of pickpocketing was an okay time to get away with touching and kissing, gauge or ascertain some of his thoughts. He would have said that Harry just wasn't into sex, or at least him personally, if it weren't for the few instances he'd displayed something akin to interest. It was dark, there was no one around, and he knew just how attractive he was; worth a shot, wasn't it?

First step: get him off topic.

"It’s weird," he said, still looking up. "You know, even with all the things I know or suspect and all the reasons I should be and all the lies you’ve told me, I can't bring myself to really be afraid of you. I tried, but I dunno." Eggsy looked back over at him, faint smile on his lips. "I can't do it. Not for long. I dunno what happened for you to win back my trust so quick. Do you know what I mean?" He turned to face Harry, hands at his sides rather than stuffed in his pockets and head slightly tilted. Yes, it was a distraction, but also a conversation that they probably needed to have.

They slipped into silence for a brief moment, and Harry found himself looking up at the sky as well. There were a few stars, but London lights wreaked havoc with visibility and he sighed lightly. Costa Rica had been his favorite place to see the stars ever since he'd gone there the first time. Missions, of course, took priority, but whenever he'd returned he would take a few extra minutes just to gaze up at the night sky. Perhaps he was getting a little sentimental in his old age, he thought, repressing a snort. 

Then Eggsy brought up the topic they'd been dancing around since they'd gotten married, and Harry looked back down at him, offering him his attention. It wasn't something he'd been expecting to discuss. His jaw tensed at the reminder of everything he'd done wrong. Lying, nearly trying to kill him the night before, still being what amounted to a stranger in Eggsy's eyes... 

Harry closed his eyes briefly, trying to gather his thoughts. "No. I don't know what you mean. It could mean that you are entirely too trusting, although it seems to be working out in my favor, in this case, so I don't think I'm going to complain," he said dryly, opening them again. 

"I'm not, is the thing." Eggsy gave a smirk, taking a few steps closer to him again. "That's why it's weird. I'm suspicious, and until I feel okay, I'm the disinterested chav who met you at the pub and didn't really shake your hand." 

Obviously, Eggsy wasn't lying. He hadn't even been all that friendly toward Harry until their actual wedding day, when he’d forced himself to relax and had gotten over the initial anger and frustration of the situation. He’d made himself stop thinking of Harry as a stiff, far-off figure he didn't know and start seeing him as a potential friend. Ever since, it had become automatic. It might still have been very calculated and decided based on what served his best interests, but with how quickly Eggsy had gotten over last night, there was probably something else at play.

"Part of it is when you say you don't want to hurt me, I believe you. I don't expect much. It's less that I'm trusting, and more that... I'm forgiving of the people that I like. Sometimes it takes a bit, mind," Eggsy said with a bit of a grin, stopping when he was just outside of arm's reach from Harry. "Especially when I gotta guess what's going on in your head."

Harry noticed Eggsy moving closer, but he didn't make any sign of it, staying right where he was. At least, going off of what Eggsy was saying, the younger man liked him. It was a start. It seemed they'd been at a start for a while now, though he thought the blame for that rested mostly on his shoulders, if he was being honest with himself. He liked to do that from time to time. Kept him humble. 

His head tilted to one side when Eggsy stopped, but he didn't make any attempt to close the gap between them. "You could always ask me what I'm thinking."

Eggsy had been planning on soft smirks, as he often did when he used this tactic, but at that, he snorted. Sure, he could ask. But even someone as forgiving as he was wasn't about to open the door to get lied to. Harry was not going to tell him the truth. He was, as the past dictated, much more likely to tell him what Eggsy wished was true rather than what was really true. Though that was mostly based on intuition than actual proof. The only time he felt Harry was being one hundred percent honest with him was when he told him that he couldn't tell him anything.

"Don't exactly work if you ain't sure, or if you’re trying to think something. Like desperately trying to think that you don't mind if I touch you." Another half-step forward, Eggsy’s head tilting as well, making sure to keep eye contact even in the dim lighting from the nearby streetlamps.

Harry grimaced, breaking eye contact and looking away. He scrubbed a hand over his face and paused before letting it fall back to his side. Now he did close the space, taking a few steps forward until he was right in front of Eggsy. "Then let me tell you what I am sure of," he said seriously, reaching for one of Eggsy's hands. "I might mind you touching me. But I don't want to." He lifted Eggsy's hand to his face, placing it on his cheek. "I don't want to wake up trying to hurt you, but I don't want to wake up alone either. I want to be better for you. I want to be what you deserve," he sighed softly, eyes half-closed. 

"Baby steps, eh? We can always work up to sharing a bed." Eggsy smiled at him, automatically stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb in short motions. As for the last bit, he let that be. He had all he deserved, really. Roof, food, probably no physical abuse. Well, not intentional. Anything more was a bonus. With his other hand, Eggsy reached to touch Harry’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric limply. "That sort of thing is why I'm forgiving. Shit happens. But I think you mean well."

The hand on his waist set off little alarm bells in Harry's head given how close it was to his pocket, but he decided he truly didn't care. If Eggsy managed to get the phone, he'd wear the damn pants and besides, he'd kept it away from him for nearly an hour. 

Harry had more important things to focus on at the moment, like the way Eggsy’s thumb felt as it smoothed over his cheek. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had someone touch him like that, and his eyes slid all the way closed, head leaning into the touch. It didn't make him nearly as nervous as he'd thought it would either. 

It seemed that Harry could at least handle gentle touches that he was expecting. That was usually something Eggsy saved for more intimate times, post-coital or after a few dates. But this was nice right where it was. 

Though of course, as soon as Harry’s eyes were closed, Eggsy lifted the hand on his waist and hovered by his pocket, waiting to be sure he was distracted. Once he was certain, Eggsy slipped his fingers in to grasp for his phone He spoke as he did to hold Harry’s attention, a smile in his voice. "I mentioned before, you gotta tell me what you're okay with and when. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or whatever."

Harry smiled slightly, keeping his eyes closed even as he felt Eggsy's grip on his waist fall away. "Just make sure you grab your phone and not my keys, if you don't mind, Eggsy. I’ll need those later." 

"Just for you, I'm gonna keep the joke I'd normally make to myself,” Eggsy snickered, grabbing it nonetheless. "Suppose it serves me right for jumping the gun. Usually when I do this, I don't go for it till I got my tongue in the person's mouth." Grinning, he dropped his hand from Harry’s face, but didn't step back, even as he dropped his phone back into his own pocket.

"Does this count as a win for you, then?" Harry asked dryly, arching one eyebrow.

"Oh I don't care," Eggsy snorted, returning his hand to Harry’s waist instead with a shrug. "I'll pickpocket something else from you at some point, and eventually I'll get you into those sweatpants. One way or another."

Sighing, Harry shook his head slowly from side to side. "I'll put them one when we get home. But only for a few moments, that's all you're getting, understood?" 

"I don't get why you're waging a war on comfort," Eggsy laughed, shaking his head. "They're just sweatpants, bruv. But fine, if that's all your posh ass can bear, I’ll take a few minutes."

Harry scoffed. "Practical clothes are comfortable," he grumbled, thinking fondly of his suits and less so of the sweater/slacks combo he was currently dressed in. 

"Suits are fucking itchy and constricting, bruv. Not bad in small doses, but all the time..." Eggsy trailed off with a sigh, finally dropping his hands and stepping away in mock-exasperation. " _ This _ is comfortable," he said, spreading his arms in demonstration.

Harry ran a critical eye up and down Eggsy's frame, shrugging at the end of it. "To each their own. You do look good in a suit, though." 

"I looked good in a wedding tux," Eggsy conceded with a shrug, his hands back in his pockets. "Though that was my first time in a suit in years, so it’s my only frame of reference." 

He walked to Harry’s side, and held out his hand. "Ready to go back?"

Glancing down at Eggsy's offered hand, Harry only hesitated a second before he took it, lacing their fingers together again. "Yes. Even if it means I'm about to walk into terribly unfashionable clothes," he sighed. 

"Oh, suck it up, tough guy," Eggsy snorted, starting to tug him in the direction of home. He held onto his hand loosely, again allowing him to pull back should he wish to.

Harry appreciated the option to pull away, but he didn't take it, keeping his hand in Eggsy's. The pace he set was slow, he wasn't really eager to get back, and the night was nice anyways. 

Once again, Eggsy kept quiet, content to walk beside him and loosely hold his hand, enjoying the night. He wasn't in a hurry to get back home either; he had nothing else to do and would probably go to bed soon after. Which, knowing them, would likely be awkward. Much as Eggsy may legitimately forgive Harry for the incident, he wasn't about to stay the night with him again soon. And it would be uncomfortable, another thing Eggsy wasn’t looking forward to after their relatively nice night.

Eventually, despite Harry’s reluctance and their slow pace, they did reach their home and he unlocked the door. Groaning dramatically, he retrieved the sweatpants and stared forlornly at them. "Well, I suppose I'm actually going to get some use out of you after all."

Eggsy smirked, folding his arms and leaning on a wall as he watched him looking so disdainfully at the stupid pants. "Hard earned use, I think. Well worth it," he hummed.

Harry side-eyed him skeptically, but he made his way up to his bedroom, shutting himself up and changing into the sweatpants. They weren't as terrible as he had thought they would be, but they weren't as comfortable as Eggsy had professed them to be either. And, Harry decided after looking in the mirror, he looked utterly ridiculous in them. He lingered in his room for a couple more minutes before changing back into his slacks and opening the door again. "Alright," he called down as he started back down the stairs. "I wore them." 

"Alright, let's s--" Eggsy started happily, getting up off the wall to meet him halfway in his eagerness. Instantly, he recognized that Harry hadn't changed a bit, and he folded his arms across his chest, expression cross. "...that ain't them," he said pointedly, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.

Shrugging, Harry stopped where he was, not at all put off by Eggsy's put upon manner. "The deal was that I would wear them, not that I would let you see me in them," he pointed out innocently. 

"Oi, don't pull that loophole shit with me," Eggsy said in a huff, still glaring at him and looking as though he was going to start tapping his foot. "Obviously I was gonna see you in them, and that was maybe five minutes, not enough time neither."

Harry pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. Eggsy really did look amusing, what with being so serious over an article of clothing. "Perhaps if I hadn't known you were slipping the phone from my pocket, I would have worn them longer," he said. "As it is, you hardly  _ won _ ." 

If possible, Eggsy looked more indignant than before. "I was perfectly content to take a raincheck, to make you put them on some other time. You can't tease me like this, bruv. And how the fuck do I know you actually did it? You go put them right back on."

"I just got the things off, Eggsy, I'm not putting them back on again," Harry objected, leaning against the wall opposite and raising a challenging brow. 

"That's no one’s fault but yours." Eggsy mimicked the expression, eyebrow raised and arms refolded across his chest. When he set his mind to be stubborn about something, it was very difficult to get it unstuck. And for whatever reason, he’d decided to be quite stubborn about wanting to see his husband in a stupid pair of sweatpants.

It appeared Harry wasn't going to be able to weasel his way out of this a second time. "Oh for the love of- Fine. I'll put the damn things on again and let you see me this time, and then we never mention it again. Acceptable?" 

The huffy expression dropped, replaced by a grin of self-satisfaction. Eggsy also dropped his arms, standing up straight. "Yeah, sure," he smiled, nodding innocently and earnestly. Though he wouldn't necessarily promise he wouldn't mention it again. It was just so much fun to be stubborn about.

Reluctantly, Harry shut himself back up in his bedroom, slipping back into the sweatpants. He lingered in there a moment more, just long enough to make Eggsy doubt if he would actually follow through before opening the door and heading back down the stairs wordlessly. 

Eggsy did begin to get suspicious that Harry would try and pull the same thing again, or decide to grumpily insist he needn't do any such thing, and then the door reopened. Sure enough, there he was with the troublesome sweatpants. Grinning happily, Eggsy watched his return, smug and pleased. "Thanks. See? They ain't that bad."

"Yes, well, they aren't that good either," Harry muttered, shoving his hands in the (surprisingly deep pockets) they provided. "Well? Was it everything you hoped it would be?" he asked dryly. 

"And more," Eggsy sighed dreamily. He snickered almost immediately afterwards, resisting the urge to take a photo. Harry would definitely not take kindly to that. "You look like I could hug you and not injure myself,” he teased, placated.

Affronted, Harry scoffed. "I wasn't aware that I normally looked like I was going to injure you if you tried to hug me," he said. "I've always thought I appeared rather open and inviting."

"You look pointy," Eggsy sniggered, shrugging. "And stiff. Very stiff. Like I’d be hugging a metal girder." 

"But not anymore?" Harry glanced down at himself and had to admit that he  _ did  _ look pretty soft. The flannel sweater only added to it, and he grimaced. "Even metal beams need hugs sometimes."

"Not anymore. And I’m pretty sure metal beams are fine on their own," Eggsy snorted. Again, he wasn't about to, but that sweater looked so soft and inviting to touch, and with those sweatpants he could see himself plopping down on Harry’s lap again.

Harry cast a glance at the ceiling before shaking his head once. "Speaking as an apparent metal beam, I can assure you that I am not entirely opposed to the idea," he said, glancing back down at Eggsy. 

Suppressing another disbelieving snort, Eggsy spread his arms and looked at him with his head slightly ducked, wiggling his eyebrows

For a second, Harry hesitated, wavering between staying where he was and accepting Eggsy's very obvious invitation. Then he stepped forward into arms reach, rather awkwardly folding his around Eggsy.

Eggsy laughed and shook his head, patting his back a few times and stepping out of his arm's reach again. "Careful, metal beam, don't want you to bend and bow."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I was not  _ breaking _ . I might be old, but I don't have to worry about a hug cracking my spine in half quite yet. Give me another thirty years, then we'll talk," he said, not even wanting to think about how implausible it was that he would make it to eighty. God knew most of them didn't.

"I was more worried about the stick up your arse poking something vital," Eggsy grinned.

"There isn't any stick up my arse. I've checked," Harry deadpanned.

"I haven't," Eggsy said with a wider grin, and shook his head, deciding a joke like that was probably the best time to reel it in. "Yeah, yeah, whole point of this is I like the sweatpants. Thanks for humouring me and putting them on."

One of Harry's eyebrows ticked up at Eggsy's little comment, and he almost said something, but Eggsy continued on before Harry got the chance. "I could possibly be persuaded to wear them again. Maybe."

"Well, when you’ve got someone as persuasive as me, anything's possible,” he winked, but truth be told it wasn't that high up on his list of priorities. But it had certainly been fun to fight him on it. He could happily fight him again, should another opportunity present itself.

Harry shrugged one shoulder before letting his head fall back against the wall, his eyes closing. "If you've looked your fill, I think I'll head off to bed," he muttered. 

Eggsy hadn't, but it was probably a good idea to let him go to off to bed. He was actually lucky that Harry had spent time with him at all that evening, which was a pretty good way of making up for the previous night, all in all. "Yeah, alright. Bed's probably a good idea."

Harry stepped forwards, reaching out to grab ahold of Eggsy's wrist and tug him forwards into his chest. He wrapped his arms around him fully, far more confident than he had been the first time, his head bowing down so that his lips were close to Eggsy's ear. "Break in half. Ridiculous." 

The sudden hug surprised Eggsy, his back tensing up for the duration of his second's confusion, but he relaxed again immediately thereafter. Eggsy snickered into the soft fabric of his sweater, wrapping his arms around and loosely holding onto him. "Look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow and tell me you don’t look stiff enough to snap."

"Hmmm, I think my flexibility might surprise you," Harry chuckled lowly, fingers trailing lightly down Eggsy's spine. He had felt the tension in his muscles and worried he'd been too forward, but the way he'd melted into him belied his anxiety. 

"Try me, bruv," Eggsy grinned, looking up at him with raised eyebrows. The fingers down his back were unexpected, but not unwelcome either, a fact which raised surprise in the back of his mind given the vow he had made to himself just yesterday to keep his distance from Harry for awhile. Maybe he had too little self-control mixed in with not feeling in danger; that was stupid of him, really. 

Harry's eyes narrowed just slightly as they met Eggsy's grinning gaze and one corner of his mouth twitched into a half-smile. "Someday," he said in a tone that wasn't quite a promise. Making promises like that would not be a wise decision, he suspected. 

Eggsy's grin didn't falter; he hadn't expected any less. He had only been playing after all.

Harry drew one of his arms away from Eggsy’s back, moving to hold his chin instead, keep it tilted upwards. "Goodnight, Eggsy," he murmured softly, leaning in to give him a short kiss.

As Harry leaned in, Eggsy reflexively gave him a light kiss in return, brief and shallow. "Night, Har," he hummed, stepping back again and stuffing his hands in his pockets with a half-smirk. He would probably stay up a bit longer. 

With that, Harry disappeared back into his room, shoulders rounding forwards as soon as the door closed behind him. The whole evening had been so uncharacteristically domestic, and the fact that that didn't bother him bothered him. Keep going like this and he was going to get soft, he thought, fingers curling in the baggy fabric of his sweatpants. He wouldn't mind so much if his job, his  _ real  _ job was more forgiving of those with gentler natures. And while Harry was by no means gentle (what was it Eggsy had said? Metal girder?) he didn't fancy finding out if he had the capacity to become so. 


	10. A Gunshot

After Harry left for the night, Eggsy stayed up for another two hours, mindlessly watching the telly, texting his friends, and sneaking a piece of the lasagna when he felt mildly hungry and bored enough to get up and get himself a piece. It was nice, not being angry, frustrated, or awkward. He came to one obvious conclusion as he sat cross-legged on the couch cushions, sucking on the fork in his mouth idly: This was the weirdest relationship -- of any kind -- he had ever had.

Because when he honestly thought about it, it was incredibly bizarre. He and Harry were married, yes, but were they dating? Not really. Maybe a night in like this might constitute a date, but by Eggsy’s standards, no. They weren't exactly friends either; all those lies put a bit of a damper on that. They were roommates with the illusion of benefits, pretty much.

Eggsy snorted a laugh under his breath, shaking his head. That was essentially it. At least he didn't seem to be in any danger of needing to pump out a kid, as was his initial fear. He sure as fuck wasn't ready for parenting, especially if he would mostly be doing it on his own, and the actual pregnancy bit sounded fucking atrocious. If there was one gift Harry had given him, it was be the absence of actually needing that role filled. It was an unspoken fine print of the marriage agreement that it looked like Eggsy wasn't going to be involved in any time soon, if ever. Thank the lord.

He returned to his room that night tired but in a much better mood than yesterday, and finally shut off the light at nearly three in the morning. 

That night he had another wet dream, this time exclusively focusing on the woman: Black Widow Scarlett Johannson this time, a reoccurring dream, but quite nice all the same. It woke him up at nearly five in the morning, and, being alone, he exercised his usual routine for such a thing. He kept his noises down as best he could, pushing a pillow into his face and biting down on the cloth to muffle even involuntary gasping noises as his back arched, going so far as to try and not move the bed springs as much as possible. 

When Eggsy was done, he tossed a few Kleenexes into the rubbish bin to take out later that day, rubbed the slight sheen of sweat from his face with the towel still on his floor from a previous shower, and promptly fell back asleep. It was eight thirty in the morning when he woke up again, and he was mildly disappointed that he must have missed Harry, but not really enough to text him his usual domestic parting. He'd see him eventually. 

The day proceeded in its usual monotony, if a bit behind schedule. 

-

Harry would never admit it, not in a million years, but he slept in the sweatpants. They were starting to grow on him a little, baggy and impractical as they might have been. Maybe sometimes life didn't have to be all about practicality or efficiency. Shit, he really was going soft, wasn't he? He had to admit, though, it made his home life much more pleasant. The previous night hadn't been half bad. It beat having Eggsy sulky and avoiding him. 

He questioned whether Eggsy felt the same way when he woke up and headed out the door without ever once seeing his husband. Not that he would blame him for still being a bit cagey; it was only a little over 24 hours since he'd tried to kill him in his sleep. God, the boy was forgiving. 

Monotony in routine continued, and while it wasn't the most thrilling, it was mildly comforting in its way. Harry's facial bruises healed nicely, not to say they weren't replaced by other bruises and markings, but Eggsy was letting them all go. He was irritated, of course, that he had no idea where they were coming from or why, but at least he was getting 'I can't tell you that' instead of blatant bald-faced lies. That was... something. 

They hadn't slept in the same bed again since the incident, either. It wasn't talked about, uncomfortable for both of them, so Eggsy continued sleeping in the guest room, waking up early enough to have a quick chat and say goodbye before Harry went off to work, and so on and so forth. 

It felt odd, like they were talking and enjoying each other's company to a degree, but not quite making it to progressing past this invisible wall. Maybe Eggsy was locked into a life of a casual roommate, abundance of video games, and no sex. Ten year old him would be thrilled.

There he was on one such night, sitting on the kitchen counter and nibbling at a biscuit he had again made (to take to Daisy and Michelle this time, but he kept a few for himself and Harry) while he flipped through an autobody magazine he had picked up earlier that day. It was impossible to know when Harry would be home on any given day, whether it be 9-ish or 3-ish, (Eggsy was intelligent enough to pick up on the congruence to the severity of Hary’s injuries, even if he wasn’t sure what was causing them) so often times he would stay up until 2, thinking maybe he would run into him, and if not, he would keep himself entertained.

-

This mission was supposed to be routine. Get in, disable the security feed so the real mission could begin, and get out. But routine didn't include gunfire when Harry was discovered snipping the wires, didn't mean a bullet slamming into his gut and his comms getting scrambled by some black-out feed. Routine didn't end in Harry dragging himself from the complex, breath ragged, barely able to make it to the getaway car that was thankfully waiting for him. 

He meant to say 'the shop.' That's where agents went when things went wrong. That's where trained medical technicians were waiting to take care of injuries like the ones he now had, that's where Eggsy wasn't. He meant to say 'the shop.' What he said was 'home.' 

Half-conscious by the time the cab pulled up to his doorstep, Harry barely realized where he was, even when he had to fumble the key out of his pocket with blood-stained fingers and insert it into the lock. He left blood smeared on the handle and the doorframe and stumbled into the hallway, one shoulder thudding against the wall. 

His vision was blurred, black pushing at the edges and his side throbbed as he pressed his hand against it to keep some semblance of pressure on it. Blinking a couple of times brought his surroundings into focus, and it suddenly hit him that this was not Kingsman. "Shit," he hissed before collapsing to the ground. 

Eggsy had heard the fumbling sounds and not thought much of it. He had assumed that Harry would be making his way in with some sort of leg injury that left him limping and didn't want attention drawn to it. In a way, he was right.

As soon as Eggsy glanced up, the easy 'Hey, Harry,' died in his throat, his eyes widening in complete shock as he watched his husband, red oozing from his front and between his fingers, collapse. "Harry-!" 

Adrenaline shot through Eggsy almost painfully as he hurriedly leaped from the counter and made it over to him in a few quick bounds. "Harry, what the fuck--" He knelt down next to him, hands hovering over him and twitching as though they wanted to help but didn't know the first thing about how. "What happened?" 

Well, there went any sliver of hope Harry had of slipping back out unnoticed. It hadn't been much of a hope in the first place. 

"Got shot," he hissed through clenched teeth, trying and failing to struggle to his feet. With a grunt, he accepted defeat, slumping against the wall instead. "Merlin," he muttered, hoping his glasses would pick it up and throwing caution to the wind. He was dying, he knew, and he greatly preferred not to, even if it meant blowing his secret. 

The comms crackled to life in his ear, and he nearly sighed in relief. 

"Harry. What happened?" 

"Later, Merlin. Can you talk me through digging this bullet out?" The lack of an exit wound was probably the only reason Harry wasn't dead of blood loss yet, but that didn't mean he wanted to carry the slug around in his gut any longer than he already had. 

When Merlin responded in the reluctant affirmative, Harry switched his gaze to Eggsy. "Would you... Upstairs closet. I need forceps and gauze. Antiseptic. Bandages."

Shot? Eggsy knew Harry was involved in some kind of violent pastime, but how the fuck had he gotten shot? More importantly, where? Eggsy knew quite well that gunshot wounds were fickle, and this time right here was likely crucial, if Harry's inability to stand was any indicator. His heart thudded in his throat, panic for Harry drowning out the confusion and alarm bells over Harry's apparent talking to himself and mentioning digging out the bullet himself. There wasn't even time enough to sort through it and remember to dial 999. 

When Harry addressed him, Eggsy left his questions behind, wordlessly getting up and dashing up the stairs as quickly as he could manage, which was fairly quick, given the adrenaline coursing through him. This certainly necessitated the small hospital upstairs, though he hoped this was a singular occurrence. 

Though Eggsy didn't go in the closet often, if ever, it didn't take long for him to find the items Harry had asked for, plus a wad of cloth that was either a towel or shirt that was now a rag, he wasn't sure which, and dash back downstairs to him. He returned to his side, setting the things down for him to reach, but also not moving. "Tell me what I can do." 

Harry glanced gratefully at the pile of supplies Eggsy had brought him, wincing as a sudden burst of pain lanced through him. "Merlin?" he asked, having only the smallest idea of where to start. 

"Give him the glasses," was Merlin's only response. 

Even in the state he was in, Harry was rather shocked. "What?"

"Give him the glasses. Your job is not to pass out; he'll have to get the bullet out."

Harry didn't want to do that to Eggsy, but he could barely see anything let alone perform surgery. "Take my glasses, Eggsy," he murmured, voice thin. 

Eggsy's eyes went from wide to narrowed as Harry continued talking to himself, looking paler and worse by the second. 

Merlin, what the fuck was Merlin? 

But Eggsy didn't have more than a second to be confused before he was being spoken to again. He had expected something like 'hand me this,' or 'call someone'. 'Take my glasses' was pretty low on the list of expectations. It seemed weird, a crazy request from a crazy person speaking incoherently from the blood-loss, but after a grimace halfway between concern and disbelief, Eggsy took the glasses from him, putting them on as that seemed to be what was expected from the tone of his request and blinking his eyes to adjust as he did.

Merlin waited until the glasses appeared to be firmly settled on Eggsy's face before speaking. "Eggsy? I'm afraid we don't have much time for introductions, or explanations for that matter. How are you with blood?" 

A voice sounded nearly in his ear, and Eggsy jumped, startled. This evening was going from bizarre to fever dream. But this insane disembodied voice was right; it didn't look like this was the time to spare for asking what the everloving fuck was going on. "Then you owe me both, whoever you are. I can deal with it, just tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"First, sterilize the forceps. God only knows when the last time they were cleaned was and the last thing we need is Harry getting an infection," Merlin sighed. "And don't let him help, no matter how much he tries. And he will try." 

Even as Merlin spoke, Harry was reaching for the antiseptic, fingers fumbling to unscrew the cap, eyes narrowed in concentration. 

"Yeah, sounds right," Eggsy said nearly under his breath. He picked up the forceps, a little uncertainly as it was the first time he was handling them. After he did, he held his hand out for the bottle. "Glasses-voice says you gotta just lie there. Hand me that."

Harry tried to let out an annoyed huff, but the blood that trickled from his lips ruined the effect. With the hand that wasn't holding the antiseptic, he touched his fingertips to it, drawing them back to look at them as if he didn't quite believe there would actually be blood. When he saw his red-coated fingertips, however, he wordlessly handed it over to Eggsy. "I'm sorry," he said, head thudding back against the wall. 

Concern renewed itself at the blood coming from his mouth -- that  _ really  _ was not a good sign. Quick as he could, Eggsy took the bottle and sterilized the tool as best he could figure how. "What do you want me to do now?" he asked pressingly.

"This is where it gets a little complicated," Merlin warned him. "You need to find the bullet and dig it out, but there's no telling how deep it's gotten. Try not to hit anything vital. And give Harry something to bite down on; he'll probably need it." 

Shit. Obviously that was going to be what Eggsy had to do but, still, shit. He had never done anything like this before, shy of playing fucking Operation as a kid, and now he was going to have to or Harry might actually die. Holy fuck. 

With a short, quick shake of his head to reorient himself, he thought quickly. Something to bite down on. The only thing other than the medical tools he had brought was a towel-rag thing, and he was probably going to need that when he was done digging out the bullet. Shit shit shit. Well, if movies had taught him anything, when they said 'give him something to bite down on' someone always shoved a wallet in there. 

With his free hand, Eggsy grabbed for the faux-leather wallet in his back pocket, grateful for the first time that it was nearly empty. He held it up to Harry's mouth, not wanting to literally shove it in there, and spoke as he moved himself to a better position to get at the wound, hand more steady around the forceps and voice steady and calm despite himself. "Harry, luv, I need you to bite down on this and hold still best you can. I'm gonna try and get it out. Hold tight."

Thank God blood didn't make Eggsy woozy until after the fact, or he'd be passing out right on top of him. So much blood, coming from everywhere... 

It took a second for Harry to register that someone was speaking, another for him to realize it was Eggsy, and another to realize he was being addressed. Even his addled mind was capable of figuring out that the wallet being held to his lips was there for him to bite down on; he remembered the last time he'd gotten shot (shoulder, nothing serious). That had hurt like hell, and it had only grazed the flesh. Presumably this was going to be a lot worse. 

"No," Harry muttered, hating how thin his voice sounded. "Can't ask you to do this, Eggsy. Call 999." To his own ears the words sounded warped and wrong as if they'd been dragged through a blender, but he hoped Eggsy was able to make them out.

Harry's voice was slurring, choppy, but Eggsy made out enough of it. "Bruv, you ain't got the time for 999 right now. I'm doing this. Glasses-voice is gonna tell me what to do, so if you trust him, you need to trust me. Bite down." 

Harry groaned, but he had neither the energy nor the patience to try and convince Eggsy to call 999 again. Instead he decided to do as his husband suggested; trust Merlin, trust Eggsy, and bite the fucking wallet.

Eggsy redirected his attention to the wound again, readying the forceps, and speaking lower to address said disembodied voice. "He's really pale, dunno if you can see anything. Got a lotta stuff in that mini-hospital upstairs, but he doesn't have blood packets, I don't think. Send something, someone,” he rambled to stall himself for a moment, not wanting to plunge surgical tools into his husband with zero training. But he needed to do it. With a breath, Eggsy set a precautionary hand on Harry’s chest, and peeled back the clothing enough to get at the wound.

"I've already got someone on their way," Merlin assured Eggsy, not much liking the look of Harry either.

It was all very unsettling. Eggsy had been fucked up himself a few times, seen the results of a knife fight, but he hadn't seen a gunshot wound up close. Gorey, bloodied, gross. He bit his lip, and, gently and carefully as he could, pushed in the tool to search for the lodged bullet.

Pleather and blood was probably the worst thing he'd ever tasted, Harry decided, eyes sliding half closed. It was also the least of his problems, but the mind chooses to focus on funny things in times of crisis. "His name is Merlin," he tried to say around the wallet, but his speech hadn't been the most intelligible even before that, and it came out as nothing more than a muffled mess. He was about to spit the wallet out and try again when he felt a firm hand on his chest (warm, warm, why was Eggsy so warm?) and cold air suddenly swirling around his torso, wet blood making him even cooler. 

Then, impossibly, things got even more painful. A spike of hot fire ignited in his side and Harry’s teeth clenched down on the leather, an agonized groan leaking out through his lips. He forced himself to stay still, knowing writhing around would only make it worse, but even so his hands clenched into fists. 

The pained groan hit Eggsy and he winced, biting down on his lip even harder. He was going to draw his own blood at this rate. He felt really bad about doing this to Harry, but it was all the more pressing to get it done quickly.

It was difficult, not being able to see what he was doing. Blindly groping inside someone and trying not to hit anything important was a really difficult task. The hole obviously wasn't that big, and damn, he was stretching it from poking about, that must hurt like a motherfucker. It sure was squishy in there too. 

Eggsy was anxious, wanting to find the bullet and get it out as quickly as possible without doing a sloppy job and hurting Harry unnecessarily. But before long, he found it. A small hardness lodged in Harry’s gut. Wincing again, still biting his lips, Eggsy grasped it and slowly pulled it out, hissing "I've got it," as he did.

He hovered, letting go of his lips and tasting the blood on his teeth. The bullet itself was dropped to the floor along with the forceps, and Eggsy's hands remained forcibly steady as he grabbed for the gauze and bandages. "What do I do now that it's out?"

Merlin, quite impressed by the speed with which Eggsy had managed to extract the bullet, was nevertheless discouraged by the way Harry's eyes were starting to roll back into his head. "The wound needs stitching, but my technicians can do that properly when they get there. For now, just put a bandage over it, sustain pressure, and for God's sake, keep him awake. If he passes out now he'll most likely go into shock and induce seizures."

Everything hurt. The first stab of pain had dulled only for a new form of agony to start up as something inside Harry  _ moved _ . His grip on consciousness was beginning to fade, and black pushed well and truly at his vision now, overtaking almost everything.

"Yes," Eggsy blindly agreed, fingers working quickly to get a bandage out and put over the wound as carefully as possible. "Harry," he said clearly and loudly, ripping open the bandage violently before placing it and pressing down on the wound with the towel rag he had brought with him. 

"Harry, I need you to stay with me. Help is coming soon, and I just need you to stay awake until then." Eggsy removed the wallet, tossing it to the side just as carelessly as he had the bullet itself. He leaned over Harry to watch his scarily chalky face and what he could see of his eyes. "I'm sorry, so sorry it hurt so much, but it'll get better soon. Just stay awake." He was talking without thinking, letting whatever words came out flow from him, frantic and glancing down at the towel as it quickly became tinged with pink. Sweating lightly from the stress, he absently wiped at his face, smearing a bit of Harry's blood on him.

Someone was talking to him. Someone was talking to him, and they sounded urgent, so Harry probably needed to listen. Reluctantly, Harry peeled his eyes open, blinking a couple of times. His mouth felt oddly dry, iron from the blood making him crave water even if his mouth was far from dry. Wrong kind of liquid. He swallowed thickly, narrowing his eyes in a desperate attempt to get them to focus. 

Slowly, painfully slowly, Eggsy's face swam into view. He looked worried and a jolt of concern ran through Harry when he saw blood smeared on his forehead. "Eggsy. Are you hurt?" he asked, trying to sit up more fully. He tried to remember when he'd slouched over, but the past few minutes were mostly just a blur. 

As soon as Harry made an attempt to move, one of Eggsy's hands was pressing firmly on his chest to keep him down, keep him immobile. All of his energy was focused on Harry, on keeping him conscious, but a small part in the back of his mind was worrying that he might have fucked something up, and the last thing he needed was anything to be made worse by Harry moving around. "I'm fine, Harry, everything's fine," he said, his lips twitching a bit. He must really be gone from all the pain. "But I need you to focus on me, yeah? Stay down, and just keep looking at me."

Rather put out by the fact that Eggsy could so easily hold him down, Harry chose to accept defeat anyways. Moving hurt worse than staying still, something he didn't even know was possible. "I  _ am _ looking at you," he muttered petulantly, eyes fixed on the streak of blood on Eggsy’s forehead. "There's blood," he said, one hand reaching up to wipe it away until he realized that his hands were covered in it and he probably wouldn't help. Sighing, he let his hand fall back into his lap with a soft plop. 

"Tired," Harry muttered a second later, eyes half-closing. And he was. His bones felt like lead, and sleep sounded very inviting at the moment. 

"Hate to tell you like this, but there's blood all over." Eggsy frowned, looking at what was indeed a very tired-looking face. He lifted the hand that had been pushing on Harry’s chest, as he didn't seem to be fighting to get up anymore, and gently cupped his face, as Harry had positioned Eggsy’s hand himself a few times before. 

"I know you're tired, luv," Eggsy sighed, stroking his cheek with his thumb in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "You can't pass out yet, though. That's why I need you to focus, show me you're here. Just for a bit. 

Harry's eyes closed completely at that, head tilting into Eggsy's touch a bit. It was the only thing that didn't hurt, which meant he was taking it. "Not passing out," Harry assured him, words slightly slurred. "Just... resting my eyes." His lips twitched up in a bit of a smile, because wasn't that what people always said when they were actually trying to sleep? "Merlin," he added after a bit. "The man in the glasses. His name is Merlin." 

"Merlin,” Eggsy repeated. Well, that explained what Harry had been saying earlier, though honestly he was surprised that he remembered that at the moment. 

When Harry was showing that he was... well, not alright, but much less likely to die at that second, Eggsy let some of the panic come flowing back in. He still had plenty of panicking to do. Like why in the fuck his husband was shot in the first place.

There was a knock at the door at that moment and Merlin cleared his throat. "That would be my agents." 

“Agents..." Eggsy repeated, rubbing his cheek, and smearing more blood on himself in the process. He stood, slowly and shakily. He needed to answer the door, he didn't have time to dwell on anything else. 

Heaving a sigh, Eggsy trudged to the door and pulled it open, standing back to let whomever it was in and putting his blind trust in glasses-man -- Merlin, rather. "Once he's taken care of, I need some fucking answers, here," he grumbled, slumping against the wall and watching after Harry.

The medical technicians barely spared Eggsy a glance, moving to work over Harry. 

"He's in good hands now, Eggsy. He'll be alright," Merlin assured him. "As for the questions, I'm sure your biggest one at the moment is how he got shot in the first place. Although I suppose it could also be how I'm talking to you." 

"How'd he get shot, who the fuck are you and how do you know Harry, why are his glasses suddenly a fucking cell phone, take your pick, I'm sure I got more." Eggsy fidgeted, still watching the strangers working on Harry, partly for lack of anything else to look at and partly out of suspicion. Sure, glasses-voice vouched for them, but that barely meant anything to Eggsy given that he had no idea who glasses-voice even was. He doubted the technicians would hurt Harry, but this was a lot that was completely out of the blue happening all at once. Eggsy wasn't about to be comfortable with their presence.

Harry wondered if he could pass out yet but figured it would be better to wait. His eyes flicked over to Eggsy when he started talking and he grimaced. Ah, yes. This was going to need explaining, that was certain. 

"Think I'd better leave this for Harry when he's able," Merlin muttered. 

"Fuck no," Eggsy scoffed, shaking his head. "I might get 'I fell on a bullet, but thanks for the help.' I ain't letting this go while I literally got his blood on my hands. Tell me how he managed to get himself shot. I mean, fuck, he's had other injuries and shit before, and I let that go but... Fuck me. Shot." 

Merlin sighed, the sound coming through mostly as a static crackle on the glasses feed. "This is going to be fun," he muttered. "Eggsy, your husband is a spy working for an international intelligence agency operating under the highest level of discretion. His latest mission… didn’t quite go as expected." 

Eggsy was quiet, staring straight ahead. Spy. A fucking spy? "...are you taking the piss? This is not the time to do it, mate." The protest was only half-hearted. He didn't want to believe it, wanted to think that even with all the injuries and late nights and lies Harry was just doing something dangerous but innocuous. Spies didn't exist outside of the movies, and if they did and Harry was one, he would tell him… right? That was the sort of thing one told their husband. ... But no. That was exactly the kind of thing Harry wouldn't tell him.

"I'm afraid I'm not. I'm currently located in the headquarters of the agency." Merlin let a bit of a silence fall between them, allowing Eggsy time to absorb the information. It would be quite a shock, that much was obvious, and he wanted to tread carefully. "He couldn't tell you, Eggsy. He wouldn't have if circumstances weren't dire." 

"Yeah, that he'd keep hiding shit and lying to me,  _ that  _ I believe." Eggsy rubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm, frustrated. He cast another look over at Harry; they really did need to talk when he was able. "...they gonna take him to wherever you are?"

"Yes. We have sufficient medical facilities and don't ask as many questions as hospitals," Merlin affirmed. "You might as well come with him. I assume you'll want to talk to him when he's stable." 

"Damn right I do," Eggsy muttered mostly to himself, striding past the strangers still gathered around Harry. He returned to the kitchen to grab his phone then went back to the hall to pick up his blood-and-spit-covered wallet from the floor, Harry's bite marks still denting the pleather. 

At this point, Eggsy was starting to feel angry again, and while he very much wanted Harry to be okay and get good treatment, he couldn't wait to have an intense conversation. It occurred to him that he was still wearing the glasses, but he planned to keep them on until they got wherever they were going. He wanted to keep the one impossible line of communication open.

The medics had gotten Harry mostly patched up and were busy hauling him up, carrying him carefully out to the car. They didn't try to stop Eggsy from coming with them; a simple order from Merlin was all the clearance they needed.

Harry was still awake, but barely. Every movement was another dart of pain, but at least he didn't feel quite as cold as he had before. It wasn't until they were halfway back to Kingsman that he well and truly slipped away, the rocking motion of the car doing nothing to help him stay awake. 

One of the technicians kept his finger on Harry’s pulse the whole time, the thready rhythm the only reassurance they had that he wasn't actually dead. 

Eggsy went along in the car, not bothering to speak to the medics. He stared out the window between glances at Harry, knowing there was nothing more he could do. Until he got answers, he would just have to be numb, not overthink. 


	11. A Kingsman

Once they reached Kingsman, Harry was whisked away on a stretcher, and the technicians began filling in the other medics on his condition. 

When the car stopped, Eggsy hurriedly climbed out and stepped to the side, inhaling some of the cold night air. The rest of them filed out of the car and took Harry away, disappearing into the huge mansion-like building. Eggsy stared up at it with narrowed eyes, still not entirely sure what it was he was willing to believe out of all of this.

A tall, bald man sporting a pair of glasses approached, expression hovering somewhere between concerned and relieved. He held a quick, muted conversation with one of the doctors before making his way over to Eggsy. "Ah, Eggsy. Welcome to Kingsman."

Eggsy didn't even notice the man's approach until he was almost beside him, his name catching his attention. "Merlin, yeah?" Eggsy asked, folding his arms over his chest, back a little straighter in the face of the unfamiliar. 

"Merlin. I would say I was pleased to meet you, but given the circumstances I can't say that's quite true," he sighed, watching as they rolled Harry away. "You can go with them, if you'd like, but if you want to sleep there are better places than a hospital chair."

"You say that like I'll be able to sleep after tonight," Eggsy scoffed, wearily looking up at the large building. "Performed emergency surgery and got told my husband's a spy, think it's safe to ask where the coffee is at this point." He glanced down at his hands, which even in the relatively dim lighting were still quite red. “And a bathroom. Don't want to be covered in blood longer than I have to be."

Merlin inclined his head, moving off to the right. "Come on then, lad. Washrooms are this way, and I'll take you to coffee right after."

Slowly, Eggsy unfolded his arms and stuffed his hands in his pockets instead. He wasn't terribly keen on following someone he had never met into the strange mansion, but he didn't really seem to have much of a choice now that he’d gotten in that car with Harry's medical team. He may as well suspend his disbelief for now; he didn't really have the energy to fight it anyway. Sighing to himself, he started following after Merlin, readjusting Harry's glasses on his face.

Merlin glanced back once to make sure he was following, raising one eyebrow. "You can take those off," he informed him, tapping at his own glasses. "Nobody will be calling Galahad for a while, I suspect."

"Ain't got a case for them." Eggsy shrugged. "And apparently they're valuable as fuck s-- wait, who's Galahad?" He blinked, frowning. Obviously Merlin could only be talking about one person, but it had been a long day; Eggsy’s mental reflexes weren’t up to par.

"Harry," Merlin clarified. "His code name is Agent Galahad. And I wouldn't worry about breaking them in your pocket; they're meant to withstand far more jostling than you're likely to give them." 

"...course it is." Eggsy sighed, shook his head, and pulled the glasses off, sticking them in one of his pockets. It took his eyes a second to adjust -- he'd gotten oriented using Harry's prescription -- and left his hands without any place to be. He was feeling quite uncomfortable, all in all. So he said nothing further, simply following after Merlin and rubbing at the back of his neck.

Merlin chose not to point out that Eggsy was smearing blood on the back of his neck, instead leading him to the bathrooms and sweeping open the doors. "I'll go get you some coffee," he said. "I know how you take it." 

Eggsy didn't know what to say to that. How in the fuck? Although... Wait, had Harry's glasses been a 2 way communication device the whole time? Did this Merlin guy see him whenever Harry did with his glasses on? 

And if not, that meant Harry was telling Merlin things as mundane as how Eggsy took his coffee, so a complete stranger knew quite a lot about him. Creepy as fuck. He couldn't come up with anything to say, so Eggsy just stepped into the washroom.

Once he was alone, and had locked the door behind him for good measure, Eggsy aggressively rubbed at his face some more, uncaring of the redness from both blood and irritation he was getting all over his face. 

This was fucking insane. Harry had obviously been hiding something from him, but even in his wildest imagination, Eggsy never would have guessed this. And how fucking posh was this place? Even the washroom was done up nicer than Eggsy's entire flat, paintings hung, floors spotless, wooden doors shining, candles lit that filled the place with the subtle smell of mahogany. What the fuck? 

Grimacing at his own reflection in the (surprise, surprise) spotless mirror, Eggsy took out his anger and frustration on himself. A nice fluffy towel was folded over a rack by the sink and he grabbed it, flinging it over his shoulder as he aggressively scrubbed at his hands under the very warm water. He scrubbed and scrubbed until the red had run down the drain and the water  coming from his hands was clear. Then he turned to his face. Shit, he'd gotten it everywhere. 

Harry's blood was on his forehead, smears and flecks on his cheeks, and, if he turned, he could see that yep, it had even gotten on his neck. He looked like he'd just killed someone. Wetting the towel from his shoulder, he scrubbed his face as well, being none-too-gentle with himself until it had all come off. His face was very red now, skin irritated with the rough treatment, red beginning to line his eyes as well, but there was nothing he could do about that. Not like he needed to look his best right now anyway. He was pretty sure he had a good excuse for looking like a train wreck.

When Eggsy was done, he decided to just abandon the damp and bloodied towel in the sink, frowning at himself as he turned away from the mirror. There was still blood in some places, his sleeves and collar, and he might have missed a spot on the very back of his neck, but it would just have to stay that way. He unlocked the door and slowly stepped out of the bathroom. Coffee was a good call; he was getting a headache.

Two sugars, three creamers, and Merlin snuck in an extra shot of caffeine because Eggsy seemed like he would need it. He looked a wreck; he'd just had to give his husband emergency surgery, and now the existence of Kingsman was hanging over his head. He considered adding a second extra, but Eggsy had to sleep sometime, and Merlin didn't want him too wired. 

He waited patiently outside the washroom doors, steam wafting up gently from the cup until Eggsy came back out looking like he'd just been thoroughly embarrassed. Far less bloody, though, so Merlin called it an improvement. "Harry sometimes leaves his glasses on in the morning," he commented, holding out the coffee. "I've seen you make it several times." 

"Brilliant," Eggsy sighed, both in actual thanks and in rhetorical annoyance at the confirmation he'd been watched occasionally. He took the cup from him and allowed himself to savour a drink of it, bitter and satisfied that it was indeed how he liked it. "... You said something about a hospital chair then, yeah?" Eggsy looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows, eyes half-lidded.

Merlin gave him a once-over and pressed his lips together as he nodded. Eggsy looked like he could use a solid eight hours, but he didn't think that was likely to happen. "He's still out, but you should be allowed in the room. The doctors have done what they can for him," Merlin said, tilting his head in an indication that Eggsy should follow him again as he started walking towards medical. 

Nodding once to himself, Eggsy held tight to the cup, letting it warm his hands as he followed along behind Merlin. He didn't expect Harry to be up for awhile anyway, and hey, if he was injured and hooked up to an IV or something he was probably not going to try to choke him when he woke. Eggsy smirked to himself, shaking his head at his own dark humour. This wasn't funny. None of this was. 

Knowing he was going to be up for quite awhile, and that he wouldn't have much to do (but where else was he to go?), Eggsy looked around as he followed him, taking in the building. Kings...man. Harry was going to need to give him a history lesson, apparently.

It took them a few minutes to get to medical and a few more for Merlin to convince the staff to let Eggsy in. 

"He won't disturb anything," Merlin told the head doctor despite the grim glare he was receiving in response. Harry's reputation for misbehaving in the med bay was well-known, and the man really didn't feel like taking on even more. "Will you, Eggsy?" 

"You'll never even know I'm in there, guv," Eggsy said with a smile as innocent and charming as he could make it, though its normal effect was somewhat dampered by the redness in his face. "Quiet as you like." Even he wasn't sure if he was lying or not. He hated hospitals, but there really was nothing to do and nowhere to go; maybe he really would behave despite his agitation.

The doctor looked at him for a long moment before relenting, stepping off to one side to let them through the door he'd been barricading with his body. "Fine. But if I hear of any disturbances it's on your head, Merlin," he warned. 

Despite himself, Eggsy was grinning, this little amusement very welcome amidst the sea of annoyance and confusion that had been his evening. He stepped through the now opened door, walking about halfway in and stopping again to look at Harry, still very much out of it, lying still on a hospital bed. With an armchair-like chair set up beside it. Rich people were insane.

"You have the glasses," Merlin said, lingering in the doorway as the doctor marched off in a huff. "Call me if you need anything." 

"Er," Eggsy hesitated, looking back at him with a momentary frown. Sure, he had he glasses, but he had no idea how they worked. Was he just supposed to say 'hey, glasses man' out loud like an idiot? It didn't really matter, though. He didn't foresee himself calling for help over... anything, really. He'd just have to sit here and wait. "Right. Thanks." 

Eggsy pulled the glasses out of his pocket as he sat down in the chair, and held onto them loosely, just as something to keep in his hands.

Merlin lifted his hand to his own glasses, tapping the side of the frame once near the lenses. "Tap them once to activate the comms and twice to deactivate them. Understood?" 

"...Yes." Eggsy looked up at him and back down to the glasses, choosing to set them carefully to the side on the table provided. At least now he knew how to use them. Though he still didn't think it would be that necessary. For lack of knowing what else to do, he drew his legs up in the chair and sat on them, vaguely looking in Merlin's direction in case he had anything else to say to him.

Hesitating, somewhat reluctant to just leave Eggsy, Merlin gave him a bit of a nod before leaving and pulling the door closed behind him. 

-

It wasn't until hours later, just as the sun was rising, that Harry actually opened his eyes. He was a bit disoriented, but a couple of blinks brought everything into focus, and he narrowed his eyes when he spotted Eggsy. His mouth tasted terrible and his side was throbbing, but he knew that as soon as he pressed the call button, doctors would swarm and it would be a while before he was left in peace again. 

So he didn't press it, just gave himself a minute to look at his husband before croaking, "Eggsy." 

Having hours to tick by, Eggsy had had plenty of time to sit there and think. But that was the very last thing he wanted to do. After an hour of occupying himself thinking of stupid things or his friends or song lyrics or anything but the motionless body beside him, he squirmed in his seat, looking for good positions. Nothing felt exactly comfortable, but then, it was a hospital chair. No matter how ritzy, those things sucked. Eventually, he had worked himself into a kind of stupor. He wasn't exactly asleep, but he wasn't awake either. Only when he heard his name did he sort of jerk back to himself again, blinking and looking over at Harry with a frown, as though confused as to why he would be making any sound. 

Time passing had at least made Eggsy look less atrocious; the only red remaining was the increasing amount around his eyes (and the few bits of blood here and there that he had missed). "Mm, Harry? Oh. Hey," he sighed, voice not quite as croaky as Harry's but still lower than normal with disuse, and he shifted and stretched a bit in the chair.

Harry tried to sit up a bit so he could see him better (was his face... red? It was difficult to tell; his eyes weren't quite back to normal) but winced at the pull of his stitches. Not a good idea, then. Reluctantly, he slumped back down, finally seeming to register where they actually were. His head fell back against the bed with a soft thud and he sighed. "How much has Merlin told you?" he muttered. 

"Nice to see you too."

Eggsy settled in his chair, opting to cross one ankle over the other knee. He watched Harry rather dully, supporting his chin with his palm. "You're a spy working for an international intelligence agency. Code name's Galahad or something. We're at Kingsman. Specifically the med bay, and I had to promise Doctor Good-Mood out there that I wouldn't fuck anything up."

Harry groaned, not just from the pain. "Speaking of, I should probably consult him before upping my morphine levels," he muttered. He turned to look at Eggsy full on for the first time since waking. "You should go back to the house. Rest." 

"Soon, probably," Eggsy sighed, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. He really was most sincerely tired. "But I haven't waited about for," he slid his phone out of his pocket to check the time, “six and a half hours to say hello and fuck off."

Harry's eyebrows rose slightly. Six and a half hours was far longer than he'd expected Eggsy to wait. "What did you wait all that time to do, then?"

"You're very much rusty to the whole 'having a partner' thing, ain't you?" Eggsy yawned, then tilted his head as he looked at him. "I think 'making sure you're not gonna die' is reason enough. But if you need more, I had just performed surgery on you, little bit jarring, that is, and  _ Merlin _ ," he over-emphasized the name, still getting used to it, “had just told me you was a spy. I wasn't about to stay alone in the house after all that shit without talking to you first."

Eggsy was right, Harry thought. He was, in fact, very unused to having someone care about him in such a capacity besides Merlin. "I'm sorry, Eggsy. You shouldn't have had to do that," he muttered, eyes sliding shut so he didn't have to look at him. "And you shouldn't have had to find out this way either."  _ Or at all _ , he added silently.

"And you were planning on slipping it in in a Christmas card instead, were you?" Eggsy smirked a mirthless smile and ran a hand through his hair. "Definitely explains the closet upstairs, though. At least ‘spy’ is better than the shit I was thinking."

That had Harry cracking open an eye. "I wasn't planning on slipping it anywhere," he said, a touch petulant. "But I'm curious as to the explanations you came up with." 

"All I knew was you had a closet full of med supplies, disliked touch, was prone to violent responses to surprises, beat the shit outta people, were out at all hours of the night, and with the stuffed dog I found in your bathroom? I thought you was a psycho killer or something, mostly. With how much of a gentleman you are, was half expecting you out there at night eating the rude." Eggsy’s lips twitched a smirk. "Was waiting for the day I'd find a stash of knives or something. I'm sure you actually do got some shit like that somewhere," he added with a snort.

"Back of the closet, like you said," Harry said, lips twitching up into a bit of a smile despite himself. It slipped away seconds later, though, and he cleared his throat. "And I suppose you really aren't too far off the mark, given how many lives I've ended. Serial killer, though, not psycho. Not yet." 

"Weirdly, if you're killing people who deserve it, I'm alright with it." The disappearance of Harry’s ghost of a smile was actually slightly disappointing. Eggsy just liked the reassurance that he was going to be alright, that was all. "Still, I like spy better. Why couldn't you tell me? And I want a specific answer, not a 'it's not safe,' general answer." He frowned. "Ain't it better for me to know so I don't stumble into shit? And what were you gonna tell me if none of this shit happened and you just came home days later with a gunshot wound?"

Harry reached up to scrub a hand over his face, the IV tube tangling up in his arm and making him let out a frustrated huff. "God, I'll be glad to be out of here," he muttered, letting his arm fall back down with a careless flop. He took a second to gather up his scattered thoughts before looking back over at Eggsy. "I would have come up with something. I'm rather good at that," he said ruefully. 

"I got shot coming home from work, Eggsy. Apologies for being in the hospital for several days where you couldn't come visit me. But it's alright, everything is perfectly in order," Eggsy said in an imitation of Harry’s far crisper accent. He laughed humorlessly under his breath. "Doubt I'd've taken that well. How long are you gonna be here, anyway?"

Harry rolled his eyes, both at the imitation of his accent (not even close, in his opinion) and at the excuse. "Well, I would have come up with something better than  _ that _ ," he huffed. "And I don't plan to be in here any longer than is absolutely necessary. With any luck, they won't want to keep me around for long either." He'd never had a reputation as a good patient, and usually the doctors were just as eager to have Harry out as he was to be out. 

"Yeah, doc mentioned you was prone to misbehaving. Almost didn't let me in because he didn't want more to deal with. Which was offensive, like I look like a troublemaker," Eggsy sniffed, faking offense. He got that all the time. "I even got the blood off of me and all."

"Well... most of it," Harry said, eyeing the collar of Eggsy’s shirt and the edges of his sleeves. He'd thought he'd caught a glimpse of some on the back of his neck as well, but he wasn't sure of that. Then he heaved a sigh and reached for the call button. "Speaking of, I probably should let him know that I've woken up." 

Eggsy hummed acknowledgment. He slowly rose out of his chair, reflexively rubbing the back of his neck and feeling the dried blood he must have missed. He wrinkled his nose. A shower was definitely in order. 

"Alright. I'll find a way back, then. Proper chat when I ain't sleep-deprived, and you're not drugged up, which I assume you’re about to be. Glasses are there," Eggsy said with a vague gesture to the side table by the hospital bed, as he walked backwards towards the door. 

Harry did sit up this time, stitches be damned. He winced slightly but shook it off. "Take the glasses with you. I won't need them until I'm released anyways, and I want you to have a way to contact someone if you need to." 

That boded well. Maybe Harry didn't hear how he sounded half the time. 'Everything is fine, totally safe, nothing to worry about, but take these communicator glasses just in case you need to contact a spy agency while I'm out. Should be fine, though.' Very reassuring. 

Still, Eggsy came back and gently plucked them off the stand, sliding them into his pocket again. "Merlin already showed me how to use them. And speaking of which," he continued, huffing as he stopped in the doorway. "Do you have to have them on during breakfast? Very weird to have a man you never met bring you coffee just the way you like it." At least they'd only kissed, and even then only briefly and maybe three times. Eggsy supposed he should be lucky that the most personal thing Merlin knew about him was his coffee order. His lips twitched.

Harry heaved a slight sigh of relief as Eggsy pocketed the glasses, mentally reminding himself to thank Merlin later. He owed him quite a bit, it seemed. At Eggsy's accusation, his lips twitched up into a smile. "I do admit to having forgotten to turn them off a couple of times," he said wryly. He'd left them on on purpose a couple of times as well. Merlin had essentially forced him into the marriage, he might as well get to be jealous for it. Eggsy wasn't bad-looking, after all.  

"Yeah-huh." Eggsy smirked and shook his head, doing him the courtesy of only thinking the word 'idiot.' "Later then, Harry.  See you eventually. If you die, I'll be fucking pissed so, you know, don't do that." And he opened the door and stepped out, realizing somehow he was going to have to get home. Shit.

Harry pressed the call button after Eggsy had left the room, trying to get himself to relax. Eggsy had the glasses. He would be fine. He hoped.

Eggsy was absolutely exhausted the entire journey home. 

When he made his way back to Kingsman’s main lobby entrance, someone spotted him and asked if he needed help. Word must have gotten around that he was there, because not only did they seem perfectly unsurprised at the presence of someone who didn't know where the hell they were, but they offered to show him to one of the cars that would be happy to drive him back to his place. 

The man was very friendly, especially for it being rather early in the morning, and was one of the few people Eggsy ran into that didn't have on an identical pair of glasses to the ones he had in his pocket. The man opened the doors for him and all, making casual conversation with him the whole way, mostly agreeing that the building was rather ostentatious for a spy agency, and closed the cab door behind him with a smirk. Being charming must be in the job description. 

Even with the obviously posh mannerisms still very much present, Eggsy felt drawn to him. Hell, were he not married, he'd probably have playfully asked for his number. He almost did anyway. But leaving one's husband's hospital bedside was probably not the time for flirting.

When Eggsy made it home, all he wanted to do was sleep. But sleep was the last thing that came. Even with his physical exhaustion, his mind didn't want to turn off. He wanted to go-go-go. Eggsy carefully set the glasses on Harry’s bedside table and refused to touch them from then on. They weren't his, and he wasn’t going to call Kingsman short of armed men bursting through the front door. When he returned them, he paused in Harry's bedroom, eyes straying to the closet. Harry had confirmed his suspicion, after all. There were weapons tucked away in there. Fuck.

His husband was a goddamned spy. Shit like that wasn't a real thing. That didn't happen in everyday life, “spy” wasn’t a real profession. It was like Eggsy had been plucked out of his exceedingly average life and dropped into a mystery story, one where the main character was woefully ill-equipped to solve the case of the absentee husband. And what a plot-twist. 

Over the days Harry spent recovering, Eggsy went through a wide range of emotions about it all. Anger, disbelief, excitement, relief, back to anger. Anger especially when he scrubbed and scrubbed at the walls and flooring to try and remove the dried blood stains. 

When he really got lonely with only his thoughts, he called over his friends to spend the night, and casually suggested they watch Casino Royale or Skyfall. He didn't give them a reason, but they didn't really ask for one. Maybe it was only because he just knew Harry as the somewhat awkward conversationalist, but Eggsy just couldn't picture him as this suave secret agent, shooting guns and taking people out and exploding things. (Though when James had to resuscitate his own heart in his car in Casino Royale, it did tug his memory of Harry bleeding in their entryway, ready to try and remove a bullet on his own. Hm.) 

When it had been a week and a half with still no sign of Harry, Eggsy started feeling particularly restless. This wasn't him, this sitting alone at home and taking care of a house. And sure, maybe some of it was just needing attention; he didn't particularly care for benign neglect. So when he and his mates were out at a pub and confronted, he didn't stop himself. He didn't stop himself from the confrontation, from nicking Rottweiler's keys (fucker was being a dick anyhow), from stealing the car. He wanted to drive fast, to race, to do something truly stupid for stupid's sake. 

He, Ryan, and Jamal ended up driving the car out of the lot before Rottweiler could even get out of the doors, tires screeching along the pavement as they booked it, laughing and blasting music as they went. It had been too long since he had done some really good driving, and he waited until they were out of range of most people before he spun around and started driving in reverse, grinning with his friends as he wove in and out of cars, loving the blood pumping through his veins.He didn't want it to stop.

By the time Eggsy got back to the house, it was early the next morning, and he felt quite a lot better. He hadn't smashed anything, hadn't snapped at Harry, however much he'd wanted to, and frankly he called that a success. Maybe now they could start to know each other properly. He still completely objected to Harry's wanting to keep him in the dark about it. This was exactly the kind of thing he should know.

Eggsy had purged a lot of his frustration that night, but he still held some anxiety and anger, expressing itself by way of the continuous smoking he was now doing. He was often by the window, smoking from his vape, blowing the smoke out into the air as much as possible to keep the peach and grape scents from lingering in the house. 

-

Harry reluctantly dealt with the laundry list of things he couldn't do that the doctor gave him, internally rolling his eyes at each one. Don't do this, don't do that, what the fuck was he going to do cooped up here in bed? No matter how little it might have seemed like it, Harry did plan on recovering this century, and he knew his body better than anybody else. And right now it was telling him to sleep, despite just coming out of a miniature coma, despite the doctor still rambling on about this, that, or the other. So he nodded off in the middle of some lecture about not pulling his stitches that he'd heard a thousand times. 

He didn't wake up until nearly twenty-four hours later. From there on, he was hell for the medics. 

Here's the thing. Harry Hart wasn't a coward. He'd faced down megalomaniacs and psychopaths and villainous types beyond number but he really, really didn't want to face going home to Eggsy. The man was bound to be pissed. And the worst part was that he had every reason to be. Harry had kept a significant part of his life from him and then said significant part had rudely intruded and made its presence known. Now he was left to deal with the fallout. 

Harry held dozens of conversations in his head with an imaginary Eggsy, trying to figure out how it would go, tried to give up doing it a thousand times but there really wasn't much to do in hospital and he was easily bored. 

Each made-up conversation made him more nervous to face the real thing, and eventually Harry just really let himself have it. Eggsy screamed at him, threw things, told him he never wanted to see him again. Honestly, Harry thought that reaction might be for the best. It would certainly be better for Eggsy if he cut ties with Harry, let him go back to the solitary life he'd once led. He could readjust. 

By a week and a half, he constantly felt like there were ants crawling under his skin. Every part of him itched, or ached, or begged to be stretched, used,  _ something _ . He didn't like sitting here feeling so useless, especially with such a big thing left undone. Another four days of this he'd have to face. Unless... 

Yanking out the IV was the work of a moment and sneaking out of the medical ward the result of another. Harry found clothes easily enough. Transportation was a bit harder. He had to resort to a regular taxi after hiking off the Kingsman estate, leg muscles screaming in protest after doing next to nothing for so long. 

But they weren't anything compared to the dull, throbbing ache that was constantly in his side that he resolutely ignored. He was healing and he knew it and his nerve endings could just fuck off. He was going home. 

The cabbie gave him a second glance that let him know how rough he looked, but Harry didn't care. He rattled off his address and sat back to endure the bumps of the rough pavement. 

The drive seemed to take significantly less time than he remembered and it seemed all too soon that they were pulling up in front of his door. With a sigh and a payment of the fare, Harry unloaded himself from the cab and let himself in, wondering just what exactly he would have to face. 

Having no idea when Harry was coming home, Eggsy was simultaneously always expecting him and never expecting him. When he heard the tell-tale scraping of the lock, his shoulders tensed automatically, fingers tightening around the vapor stick. He was recovering from his hangover, he was still angry, and now it looked like he was going to be put in the place of direct confrontation. Fucking wonderful. 

When Harry entered, Eggsy was just standing in the living room area, not facing the entryway where Harry would see him. "Still up. Sorry if you wanted to sneak by me."

So it was going to be like that, apparently. Harry had been hoping to get a bit of peace, but then again, he'd had that in the hospital, and he’d hated it. His shoulders slumped forwards a touch and he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and leaning against the nearest wall for support. Little as he'd like to admit it, he was still weaker than he'd like to be, and the walk from headquarters to a road had been fairly draining. "Not much point in sneaking anymore, is there?" he muttered. 

"Just because I know now don't mean you want to see me." Eggsy looked over to him with the stick in his mouth, the end glowing a pale blue as he sucked absently while he took him in. Harry didn't look so great. But then, Eggsy probably didn't either. "I'm actually surprised no one came over to fucking 'Men in Black' that shit outta me."

Harry snorted softly. "If you're talking about that ridiculous flashing device they have, I’m sorry to say that it doesn't actually exist. It would have been an amnesia dart, if anything." Harry pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to the armchair instead, sinking down into it heavily. "And it was suggested. Some of the agents aren't sure you can be trusted."

Eggsy scoffed. Memory erasers don't really exist but  _ amnesia darts, _ that shit was real and totally almost happened. Very reassuring. He remained standing, just turning the small amount necessary to keep Harry in view, twiddling the stick between his fingers rapidly. "Yeah, wipe the fucking chav, clearly he's shady and can't be trusted going by the way he helped save Harry and stayed at his bedside for fucking hours. Again, I'm surprised as shit it  _ didn’t  _ happen. Or that you didn't do it when you walked in, you was so keen on keeping it from me." He was speaking a little faster than usual, worked up and agitated.

A flicker of discomfort passed over Harry's face, and it wasn't his aching side that brought it on. The thought had crossed his mind. But he didn't really want to go back to the stiff dance they'd kept up since they'd been married. Hopefully this could soothe things between them. "I only kept it from you because it wasn't safe to tell you, Eggsy. I wasn't trying to be malicious." 

"Well, I'm not sure." Eggsy scrubbed at his face with the heel of his palm. He couldn't summon empathy right now, couldn't make himself see that Harry probably had a point. "You keep saying that, that it's safer for me to not know, but how is my ignorance supposed to protect anyone? Wouldn't have stopped me from stumbling into something if I didn't know it was there. We tried sharing a bed, I definitely would have run into things If we had kept it up. It wouldn't've stopped someone trying to hurt you through me, just would’ve made me more freaked out. I don't know what shit you guys get up to, but my not knowing what you do doesn't erase me. And if it was 'safer' by being one less person out there to run off and babble about it, fuck, I would’ve thought you knew me better than that by now." 

By the end, Eggsy was looking at him with a frown in his eyes and a smile of disbelief on his lips. He looked away again, taking another distracted puff before continuing on. "I just think you and whomever there thought it was a good idea for you to get married to some poor sod -- because I'm thinking it weren't your idea -- decided it was more convenient to keep that sod in the dark about it all. After all, us common types can't be trusted." He ran a hand through his already messy hair, exhaling the smoke up toward the ceiling. 

Harry listened to him silently, finger running absently along the arm of the chair, picking at a fraying string when he found one. Some of Eggsy’s points were valid, he couldn't deny that. Sleeping with him had been a mistake given what he knew about himself, but he'd wanted to at least try. They'd tried, they'd failed, and he didn't know whether or not it was going to happen again. 

When Eggsy finished speaking, Harry said, "It wasn't my idea, you're right on that account. The last thing on my mind was marriage.” He sighed heavily and stared off at the wall for a bit, trying to scrape together some semblance of coherent thought. "They didn't trust you. They probably still don't. Most likely, they never will. But you know now, and I'm not going to amnesia dart it out of you." 'Unless I'm explicitly ordered to' he tacked on mentally. Even then, however, Harry wasn't sure if he would. He hoped it didn't come to that.  

Eggsy just stared at him. Harry wasn't fighting his points, nor contesting his accusations. He let the point 'it was just more convenient' go by. Harry was just sitting there, telling Eggsy 'what's done is done.' He knew how to deal with anger, with Dean's yelling and his mom's 'go away Eggsy's’. 

This was more like disinterest. Eggsy had never really felt on even footing with Harry, and maybe that really was all there was to it. Eggsy was trying to force something that wasn't going to happen, which would explain why he was so angry and Harry was so... nothing. 

"I've given you so much leeway and room for understanding, Harry. I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you couldn't tell me what you was up to. I put blind faith in something I knew jackshit about because I wanted you safe, and I sat beside you for hours to make sure you would wake up, and I can't even say if you'd do the same for me. We've been married for months and I'm just now finding out what's probably the biggest and most important part of you. ... Clearly I don't know you at all."

Harry let most of the speech roll off his shoulders. It was true, after all, there wasn't much he could say in his own defense. But when Eggsy mentioned not doing the same for him, he looked up sharply. "Is that what you think?" he asked, disbelief lending jagged edges to his voice. "That I'd abandon you if you needed me?" 

Eggsy's ranting was put on pause, thrown off by the sudden interjection. "You were surprised by it," he started slowly, frowning. "And you haven't given me a lot of cause to believe anything otherwise."

Groaning, Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. He wasn't good at this, the whole talking thing. Or the emotions thing, come to think of it. So combining the two certainly wasn't makings things any easier. "I wasn't surprised by it because I wouldn't have done the same," he said, voice a touch quieter than it had been before. 

"...Harry, I don't know what to believe." Eggsy sighed, sitting himself down on the arm of the couch that was furthest from him, staring down at the floor as he twiddled the stick. "Unless you can give me a better reason, that's the only one that makes sense." And even then, he'd been lied to  _ so many times. _

Harry let his head fall back against the chair and stared up at the ceiling. "You're young, Eggsy," he told the plaster overhead. "And Kingsman isn't the most secure of jobs, as you now know." Grimacing, he brushed his fingers over his side before lowering his gaze to actually look at his husband. "The less attached we are, the easier it will be for you to move on." 

Eggsy frowned at that; that wasn't even an option that had occurred to him. "...that's what you're on about?" At least he could say it sounded honest. 

His eyes hovered over Harry’s side, wondering how many other injuries like that he'd sustained. Obviously if he was a spy -- something that was still absolutely ludicrous to acknowledge -- there would always be that chance. But Eggsy felt the exact opposite. "On the offhand chance you die in this shit, you want me to be able to just move on with my life? That's not really how this works. Or, that's not how I work. I decided a long while ago that I'm in this to be in this, and that means I want to know you. I want the possibility of getting attached, whether it sucks later on or not."

Harry's brow furrowed. "You didn't have a choice in this, Eggsy. You should have the opportunity to find someone you actually want to be with, not just deal with me out of some sense of obligation." It hadn't occurred to him that Eggsy would put genuine stock in a not-so-genuine relationship. He had no reason to be sincere, no reason to actually care for Harry beyond what was necessary to live together. 

"I make the best out of shit. No, I didn't have a say in it, but I'm not gonna just sulk about because I didn't do marriage like most people." Eggsy frowned right back at him. Hadn't that been obvious? He didn't have a say in any part of his life, his dad's death, his shitty step-dad, quitting what he thought was his one opportunity to get out of the shitty situation he was in, all choices not made for him that he’d just found himself in. But he wasn't one to wallow in self-pity for long. Why would marriage be any different? He didn't choose Harry, but that didn't mean he had to just tolerate him till death did they part. That would just be miserable. 

"I had plenty of time to find someone, and I just didn't. So I'm here, and I got your name attached to mine, so yeah, there's some obligation, but I also like you when you let me,” Eggsy shrugged.

For a moment, there wasn't much Harry could say. He wanted to believe Eggsy and, for the most part, he did. But there was still something in the back of his mind saying that Eggsy wouldn't be here if he didn't have to be, wouldn't ever have chosen him if he had been given an actual choice. Not that Harry blamed him for that. And yet. Eggsy had said he'd liked him 'when he let him', whatever that meant. "When I let you?" he echoed. 

"Maybe that'll be more now." Eggsy shrugged again, choosing not to elaborate. Harry was a smart guy, he could figure that out. Eggsy puffed on the stick again and exhaled the smoke as he rubbed at his face, not really sure what he wanted. 

Well, one could hope. 

"There wasn't any blood," Harry said after a moment. "In the hallway, where I fell. Thank you." Eggsy had done far more than was expected of him and handled the whole ordeal better than Harry could have hoped for. Good enough to even be considered for a candidacy in Kingsman, perhaps... But, no, Harry wasn't going to turn Eggsy's life into what his was. It would be a cruel way to repay him for all he'd endured. 

"Hm?" Eggsy looked up at him with eyebrows slightly raised. He only caught a few of the words and it took a moment for them to reassemble in the proper order. "Oh. Yeah, forgot about that. Took care of that awhile ago. Blood fucking sucks to clean up once it's dried. Can I ask you something?" he asked, frowning as a thought suddenly occurred to him.

Harry couldn't help but let out a wry smile. He'd cleaned blood off of many a surface and knew well just how difficult it could be to get all the stains out. "You might as well," he said.  

"If it didn't matter who you married, why didn't you marry a nurse or doctor or something? Someone who works long hours and could've stitched you up?" Seemed the logical solution, if he didn't care to whom he was married, and there were probably lots of frazzled doctors and nurses too busy to find partners themselves. 

That had not been the question Harry had been expecting, and it took him a bit by surprise. "I can stitch myself up just fine under most circumstances," he said, shrugging one shoulder. "This," and here he paused to indicated his gunshot wound, "was a bit of an abnormality." But that wasn't the real heart of Eggsy's question. "You were in a bad situation that you didn't deserve to be in. I wanted you out of it." Simple, really. 

Even in his irritation, Eggsy was glad to hear it wasn't a common injury. "You hadn't met me, bruv." And it was unlikely Harry had really known the extent of the 'bad situation.' Actually, he wasn't sure if he knew now. Harry must have had some indication if that flash of understanding Eggsy had seen cross his face when Eggsy had reacted so strongly to having hands laid on him gave anything away. But Harry had never addressed it either, so he couldn't be sure. 

"Not you, but I'd met your stepfather," Harry muttered. It hadn't taken much to discern just what kind of a man Dean was, even before he'd offered up his stepson as a prize. "In this case, I'd say his unpleasantness worked to your advantage." 

Eggsy hummed, giving him a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. "How's your side?" he asked, slipping the stick into his pocket. He'd had about enough of stewing in his feelings; he felt bogged down with all the baggage, and he really disliked being so irritable.

Harry just shook his head. "Healing. Slowly, but surely." As if sensing that they were the topic of discussion, his stitches started itching, and he curled his hands into loose fists to keep from scratching at them. He'd had stitches enough times to know they were better off left alone. "I'll be fine in another week or so." 

"You didn't get clearance to go, did you?" Eggsy’s lips twitched, thinking back to how adamant that doctor had been. He wouldn't have pegged Harry as so stubborn on first sight, but after the sweatpants debacle... It certainly made sense now.

Harry blinked up at him innocently. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Just do me a favor and keep my glasses wherever you've got them hidden for a bit. The doctors should try and stop calling in a few hours. No stamina," he said. 

"Uh-huh," Eggsy snorted, shaking his head. "Glasses are in your room. Haven't touched them since I got back home. Feel free to avoid them, you medical fugitive."

Harry laughed wearily, eyes half-closing. "Would you rather I go back to medical? Enjoying your time on your own, I suspect." 

"Nah." Eggsy yawned, drawing his knees up again as he slid to sit on the couch cushion. "Had a nice day yesterday. But I ain't keen on being alone all the time. Even when I'm pissy at my person."

Head lolling over to one side, Harry's lips twitched up into a smile. "I'm your person, then, am I?" he asked lightly, having the sudden, unexplainable urge to run his fingers through Eggsy's hair. 

"You are," Eggsy said, supporting his head with a fist and leaning on the armrest. He gave Harry a smirk that was genuine, if faint. "That ain't news, is it?"

"I had no idea you were the possessive type," Harry teased lightly, one eyebrow quirked. 

"Oh, very," Eggsy said, nodding seriously. "I'm a possessive boyfriend, husband in this case. What's mine is mine, Har, don't get much more 'mine' than this," he hummed, playing along, unable to keep up the serious look. He was mostly joking after all.

Harry hauled himself out of the arm chair, refusing to wince. Instead he kept his face mostly blank, a slight spark of amusement in his eyes. "You're right. It doesn't get much more 'mine' than having you with my name and my ring on your finger." 

"Almost as 'mine' as a person can get." Eggsy smirked again, more sincerely this time. Actually, he'd yet to sign his new legal name anywhere, as he never had to sign for anything. Eggsy Unwin-Hart. Weird to remember that was his name now. 

"Going to bed then?" Eggsy asked, tilting his head upward to keep looking at him.

"In a moment," Harry said, rather liking the look of the smirk on Eggsy's face. "But first, I think I fancy a goodnight kiss." He bent down until he was more at a level with him, stopping just short of actually kissing him, head tilted to one side in question. 

Eggsy honestly was far too forgiving. Or maybe he was just ready to start again tomorrow after all the draining feelings talk. And if Harry was asking for a kiss, maybe he was still coming down off of morphine or something. "Only since you asked so nicely," he said, so quietly it was almost as if here talking to himself. More confidently than he otherwise would have, Eggsy tilted his head the remaining distance and sealed their lips in a light kiss.

Harry took what Eggsy was willing to give him, sighing lightly as he pulled away. His eyes stayed closed for a second longer than they had to before opening again, and he offered Eggsy a warm smile. "Goodnight, Eggsy. I'll see you in the morning." 

That too caught Eggsy off guard. Harry almost never smiled. "Night, Harry. I'll see you." He smiled back despite himself, almost reflexively. He would probably be staying up for a bit longer, digesting the evening, and giving Harry space so they wouldn't have to run into each other, as he did most evenings.

With that, Harry turned and made his way up the stairs. It was a bit of a process, and he hated that it was. He had to take each step both feet at a time and a little over halfway up he had to stop completely and lean against the railing until his side stopped complaining so much. Perhaps, he thought, he'd haul a blanket and a pillow back down with him the next morning and set up on the sofa for the next few days. Sure, it wouldn't give him much privacy, but it would be easier than going through all this again. 

But for that night, he made it the rest of the way up, closing the door behind him and struggling out of his clothes. His trousers were easy enough, but getting the shirt off without popping his stitches was a bit more of a challenge, and he didn't bother putting another one back on. Quickly, he tugged on a pair of soft pants and collapsed into his bed, thoroughly worn out. 

Eggsy granted Harry nearly twenty minutes to get upstairs and settled before he even started to gather up his things to head up himself. He couldn't imagine what it was like recovering from a gunshot wound and having stitches; obviously, not fun. When he did end up going to bed, it was with a blank mind. He was tired of the anger.


	12. An Understanding

It took Harry far longer than usual to get to sleep. Normally, he was able to drift off in the span of hour, even if it did drag a little longer sometimes. 

That night, however, nothing seemed to be working. Any way he lay, his side ached fiercely and he gritted his teeth against it, trying vainly to ignore it. His fingers twitched, reaching for the morphine controls that weren’t there, and he had to admit that staying another night or two in the hospital probably wouldn't have been the worst thing ever. 

Eventually, sheer exhaustion overtook him, and Harry fell into a restless sleep. Unsettling dreams turned into nightmares, and he woke several times during the night, panting and wild-eyed. The last time he bolted up, the sun was streaming through his window and he decided to just give up on getting back to sleep. It wasn’t going to happen.

Wearily, Harry dragged himself out of bed. There was no way he was going to bother with a suit. He managed to get himself into a button-down easily enough, figuring that would be easier to get out of as well. As he was digging through his closet for a pair of slacks, his eyes fell on the discarded sweatpants, and he paused. A few minutes later he was headed downstairs, sweatpants, red-rimmed eyes, and all. 

Come morning, Eggsy was up at what was quickly becoming a normal time for him. He wandered back downstairs, hair fluffed and sleep tousled, sleep lines still on his face. He didn't know if Harry would even be down there, or if he was still asleep, but even so, he threw on a shirt for his sake. 

It was weird actually beating Harry to being awake and downstairs when he was still there. Eggsy had been doing the morning routine on his own for nearly two weeks, and he'd done it when he'd overslept and missed Harry, but those times had been different. When Harry wasn't home at all it was weird, things undisturbed from the previous night, and after Harry had left at least there was at least the comfort of a dish in the sink or things having moved slightly. 

Being the first one downstairs had thrown Eggsy off, and he stood there in the entrance to the kitchen, rubbing one of his eyes to wake himself up and get himself going, mentally buffering what it was he was supposed to be doing.

After a bit of deliberation, including the consideration of going back to sleep, he decided to crack on as always. So Eggsy got out one of the pods and some water to get his coffee together. Sympathy for a no doubt aching side had him assembling Harry's kettle as well, assuming he'd want tea as he always did, and he set it up on one of the stove burners. He played a song from his phone quietly in his pocket, wanting to break the silence otherwise filled with bubbling water and the drip of coffee, lip syncing to the fast-paced female rap.

When he at last held his cup in his hand (Harry's kettle was not yet whistling), he sipped at it slowly. He was leaning on the counter considering food when he saw Harry shuffle in. 

Harry wasn't looking too well. Seemed last night hadn't agreed with him much, and it showed in his face, the lines under his eyes more pronounced, red tinging them. 

Good thing Eggsy was tactful enough not to say 'wow, you look like shit.' After a once-over, he settled on, "Return of the sweatpants, eh? Told you they was comfy," with a hum and a tilt of his head.

The comment about the sweatpants Harry was expecting. The newly whistling kettle he was not. With a grateful nod to Eggsy, he flicked off the stove and set about fixing his tea. "For someone who is sporting a near-fatal gunshot wound, yes, it is more comfortable than dress pants."

"I choose to think of that as an excuse,” Eggsy hummed into his cup as he watched Harry get his tea. "By that logic, I would think you would have a t-shirt or something."

Harry sipped at his tea, smirking slightly. "A button down is casual enough," he said, gesturing to his shirt. "Not to mention easy to get off again," he added.

"Casual for you, maybe," Eggsy snorted, sipping his coffee and hopping up on the counter, side-eyeing Harry. "But getting it off? I would struggle. So many little buttons," Eggsy sighed sadly, shaking his head.

Shrugging one shoulder, Harry spared him a cursory glance, slight smirk on his lips. "I'm sure your fingers are more nimble than you're letting on," he commented dryly. 

Eggsy wiggled his fingers at him and snickered, hopping down from his perch. "These nimble fingers are gonna make breakfast. Do you want something?"

Harry was one second away from objecting to having Eggsy cook for him when he decided to let himself have it easy for once. Besides, Eggsy had offered, so it wasn't like he was forcing him to make him anything. "Just make two of whatever you're having," he decided, wandering over to the table, tea in hand.  

"Two servings of burnt eggs it is," Eggsy said, moving over to the fridge. He got out the various ingredients he was going to use and restarted the music in his pocket, setting about making the food. He'd gotten beyond toast at least. Harry's now and again cooking lessons had been enough to make him stretch his cooking capabilities beyond the microwave.

Breakfast turned out to be very not-burned eggs with cheese that had begun to melt, two warm sausages, clearly the pre-made kind Eggsy had heated up in a pan, and the usual toast. It wasn't the prettiest plating and more food than Harry usually ate, but fuck it, Eggsy was hungry, and he  _ had  _ said two.

Harry had nearly finished his tea by the time Eggsy had got breakfast done up. It was all terribly domestic, him relaxing while his husband bustled about the kitchen. Of course, the aesthetic was a bit thrown off when one looked closer at the red-rimmed eyes and bandages on one and the lingering bloodstains still faintly visible on the back of the other's neck. 

When Eggsy gave him a plate with far more than he expected on it, Harry nodded up at him. "Thank you, Eggsy," he said.

"You swipe any pain meds for that before you snuck out?" Eggsy asked, in lieu of a 'you're welcome.' He plopped down in the seat to Harry's left and started digging into his food. It really did feel weirdly domestic; he was almost expecting a golden retriever to show up and Harry to suddenly have a pipe. Actually, the thought made him itchy for his smokes, the real ones he'd been trying so hard to quit. Maybe he could let himself have one after breakfast. One wouldn't hurt.

"That would have been a good idea, wouldn't it?" Harry sighed, picking at his eggs. The lingering dregs of the medication weren't doing much for his appetite, but he made himself take a few bites nonetheless. Refusing to eat wouldn't smooth his road to recovery. "I have some extra-strength painkillers in the closet."

"You might have some horse tranquilizers in there," Eggsy added, smirking into his eggs. He hadn't been up there much, not having snooped in the closet, but maybe now that all the skeletons were out of the hidden compartment he would go take a better look, actually learn what was in there. Might be of use to know, now that Eggsy knew it wasn't used for creepy serial-killer killings. Just regular hired-secret-agent killings. Much more acceptable.

Harry started shaking his head but then paused, brow furrowing momentarily in thought. A second later. he shook it more firmly. "No, I used the last of those after Monaco and never replaced them," he mused. "Thanks for the reminder."

Eggsy did a double take, his eyes narrowing as Harry finished. "... Bullshit. Morphine yes, tranqs no."

One of Harry's eyebrows inched upwards. "Glasses as a two-way communicator you'll believe, but you draw the line at horse tranquilizer?" he teased lightly.

"Hey, glasses I  _ had _ to accept. Bloke started talking to me through them and all, I didn't have a choice. Tranqs? I call bullshit,” Eggsy said, waving his fork for emphasis.

Harry shrugged and scooped up a forkful of eggs. "I don't really have a way to prove it. But I can assure you that Merlin could confirm it. He was there," he said mildly.

Eggsy paused, taking a bite of sausage and thinking a moment as he chewed. "What kind of toys you got?" Hey, if he had an in to learn about this kind of thing, he wasn't going to waste it.

The question had Harry pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth. Should he tell him?  _ Could  _  he tell him? Then he decided he didn't care. There were some things you told someone after they’d saved your life. "The amnesia darts are in the watch. My umbrella acts as a shield and can fire projectiles. My suits are also bulletproof."

Eggsy stared at him, wide-eyed with a sort of awe. Now  _ that  _ he believed. Amnesia darts in the watch, and even the suits and umbrella were toys? Damn, that was cool. "Well, fuck me," he grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Any time you leave the house you're ready to go. Nice," Eggsy said, rather impressed.

Harry smiled into a bite of his sausage. Eggsy was already this excited and Harry hadn't even told him about the poison pens or toxin-coated shoe blades. Not to mention the electrifying signet rings or cigarette lighter hand grenades. "Yes, we spies are rather fond of our gadgets. But don't let Merlin hear you say that; his ego is quite large enough already."

"Oh I'd stroke his ego quite a bit," Eggsy grinned. If Kingsman didn't slightly scare him, Eggsy would have gone and grabbed the glasses to tell Merlin just how cool that was. Bullet proof suits, amazing. Though how Harry had gotten shot like that with a bullet proof suit was beyond him. Maybe he could talk Harry into showing him what that umbrella did sometime, too…

Rolling his eyes, Harry finished up his sausage and started in on the last of the eggs. He still wasn't really hungry, but he was at least able to keep everything down. So far, anyways. "If his head gets any more swollen, it's going to explode." 

"Well, maybe it's deserved head swelling. If he designed that shit, and he could walk me through the bullet removal, and takes constant surveillance, and god knows what else, he's one capable motherfucker. I wouldn't mess with him," Eggsy continued, still grinning and watching Harry, his own food forgotten. This was too entertaining for food, a thought that didn't often occur to him.

Harry scoffed, giving Eggsy an affronted look. "And what about me? I make it all the way home with a bullet in my gut, fully conscious I might add, and all I get is a back seat to Merlin? Ridiculous." 

Eggsy hummed, pretending to think, pursing his lips. "Hmm... You did, and were set to do your own surgery if I hadn't made you give it up... But Merlin, he's clearly the guy to know." At this point, he was just messing with Harry, finding it fun. And who wouldn't?

Harry snorted, setting his fork down in disbelief. "We are talking about the same Merlin, aren't we?"

"Ain't a very common name, bruv," Eggsy countered, quirking an eyebrow, arms folded across his chest as he leaned further back in his seat.

"Ah, then this would be the same Merlin who has terrible fashion sense and pulled out all his hair during the first few months he was a Kingsman agent," Harry stated dryly, following that with a sip of tea. 

"I thought the sweater and slacks was rather sharp. And bald was a good look for him. Sharpens his face, and who isn't a sucker for a strong jaw?" Eggsy mirrored him, sipping his (nearly cold) coffee with raised eyebrows, a smirk in his eyes.

Muttering to himself, Harry pushed back from the table, picking up Eggsy's plate as well as his own and carrying them to the sink. He didn't say anything, just resolutely started washing the dishes. 

Eggsy only laughed, picking up his cup and following him into the kitchen again. "Aww, I'm sorry, I'll play nice."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm certainly not upset," Harry said, scrubbing at the plate a touch harder than was absolutely necessary.

"And well you shouldn't be, since I'm just fucking with you." Abandoning his cup on the counter, Eggsy leaned with his back to it, inching along closer to Harry with eyebrows raised and eyes widened, the picture of innocence. 

Harry rolled his eyes, but the effect was ruined by the small smile he directed onto the dishes instead of Eggsy. "Are you sure? Not thinking about leaving me for Merlin?" 

"Oh no, he's not my type." Eggsy shook his head, smirking slightly as he lifted a hand to touch Harry's arm. "But whoever that bloke was what helped me find a cab ride home, you might be in trouble there," Eggsy said as he dropped his hand, teasing him again.

That got to Harry far more than any comment about Merlin ever would. His hands stilled, the water from the faucet running until he slowly reached up to turn it off. "I wouldn't stop you," he said. 

Eggsy blinked, his smirk falling away. Had he gone a bit too far with that one? That was a bit too real of a reaction; Harry  _ did  _ know Eggsy was just messing around, right? Even if there was a bit of truth in that last one, there was no way for Harry to know that. "I hadn't planned on it," he said after a moment, not edging away from him. 

Harry shook his head, set the plate down, turned so he could see Eggsy a bit better. "But it wouldn't matter even if you had. I don't want you to feel trapped in this, Eggsy. I'm not the person you would have chosen, and I don't want to keep you from the people you would have." 

No, no, Eggsy wouldn't have chosen Harry. Given all the people in the world, were he allowed to hand pick his marriage partner, Harry probably wouldn't have been an option he would have even considered. Still, they  _ were _ married, and the fact Eggsy didn't choose him didn't mean he was about to pretend he didn't exist and keep his options open for someone better to come along. Even with permission, Eggsy wasn't about to go looking. 

Eggsy lifted his hand and held it in the air for a moment, giving Harry warning before he touched his face. Eggsy’s palm cupped his jaw, his fingertips just barely touching his hair. Whomever that was at the agency hadn't been a real thing and he knew it. It was a fleeting consideration during a vulnerable time, his mind overcompensating for someone who was handsome, charming, and nice to him when he was exhausted and starved for attention. That's all it was, and there very well might be others that cropped up. 

But unless someone came and swept Eggsy completely off his feet, he was there to stay. He had seen his mother last nearly 15 years in a marriage without real love, and Harry was, for all his faults, a damn sight better than Dean on his best day. If she could do that, he could do this.

"Yeah, I get it," Eggsy said, his head tilting as he looked at him, gaze raking over his hair rather than making eye contact. "You ain't a ball and chain, I know that. Neither am I." Although, if Harry hadn't found his own person properly in 52 years, he probably wasn't about to drop Eggsy for someone he met on a secret spy mission or something. But Eggsy appreciated the sentiment and returned it nonetheless, even if he did see it as an opened door he probably wouldn't go through, even with some of his needs not being met as things were. Eggsy was loyal, and that was that.

All the evidence Harry needed that Eggsy was worming his way into his life came in the form of the realization that he didn't mind Eggsy's touch, wouldn't have minded even if the boy hadn't given him any warning. The heat and weight of it was comforting, not disquieting. Maybe it was almost dying that had done it, but he felt a wave of desire sweep over him. Desire to pull Eggsy close and hold him there, desire to tell him whatever he wanted to hear, desire to carry him up the stairs and and fuck him into the mattress. 

But Harry didn't do any of those things. He was fairly certain Eggsy would have raised some objections. Instead, all he did was lift his hand and settle it over the one resting on his cheek, his eyes closing momentarily. "I don't see you as a ball and chain," he assured Eggsy. He might have at one point, yes, but the days where he didn't trust Eggsy were past. He'd proven himself to be nothing but loyal.

The fleeting urge to kiss Harry passed over Eggsy, a leftover comfort reflex from previous relationships. But he let it go, settling for a light smile instead. "Good." 

There had been a subtle shift, and maybe it was some conclusion or change in perception that Harry had come to while in the hospital, or hell, maybe it was just everything being out in the open, but he didn't seem as pulled back as before. It had only been one morning, but Eggsy felt like they were working better. Like he was a little bit less of a burden.

As always, Eggsy brushed his thumb over Harry’s cheek once and then dropped his hand, though he didn't back away from him as he spoke. "So, is a fugitive like you going into work today?"

Slightly disappointed when Eggsy let his hand fall away, Harry shrugged one shoulder. "The stocks and real estate company can go another few days without me. Merlin arranged for three weeks leave, and it's not been two yet. And I don't think they would appreciate my choice of attire as much as you do," he tacked on, gesturing down at his sweatpants. 

Eggsy’s eyes fell to the sweatpants again, and he smirked, feeling so bold as to tug at the pocket. "Their loss, though. I'll appreciate them enough for all of us," he snickered.

A couple drops of water flew from his fingertips, reminding Harry that he was still very much in the middle of something, and he turned back to the dishes. 

"So you do work two full time jobs," Eggsy continued, shaking his head in disbelief. "Can't imagine how you manage that. Must be fucking exhausting." He had thought Harry was making the stocks job up, and that had been why he had been so reluctant to give him any information about it, and especially with a real job like Kingsman, that must be both exhausting and mind numbing doing work like that. "Why? Surely a badass spy don't need two jobs. They gotta pay you enough."

"Kingsman pays more than enough. Were a knight able to retire, I could do so right now and lead a comfortable life for however long it happens to continue. But the agency finds it valuable to spread us out amongst different occupations that could work to its advantage. I have helped secure several safe locations through the real estate side of things," Harry explained.

"I... guess I can see that," Eggsy said with a frown. 

Still, it seemed extremely demanding. Working at Kingsman already necessitated risking your life every day, training hard and building reflexes that were clearly second nature above thought. Kingsman had nearly killed Harry, made him get married against his will, and also work another full time job on top of that? It seemed unreasonable to Eggsy. But Harry must genuinely love it to give everything he had to it. Consistently. Eggsy understood that Kingsman existed, but maybe he just didn't understand anything else. 

"It is, admittedly, a lot of work," Harry said, wiping off the last of the dishes and drying his hands. "But nobody ever said saving the world was an easy task." He said it lightly as if it were a bit of a joke, even if that had actually been what he was doing. At Kingsman, at least. Lord knew stocks and real estate weren't about to change the world.

"Saving the world," Eggsy repeated, shaking his head again in disbelief. "That's fucking crazy, bruv," he said with a slight laugh, and stretched upward to kiss his cheek. 

With breakfast done and dishes taken care of, and Harry not seeming about to rush out the door, Eggsy wasn't sure what to do. Before anything else, he supposed he needed a shower.

"I'm gonna go get less gross. And don't take this the wrong way, but let me know if I need to grab you stuff from upstairs. I imagine climbing them with stitches and not so much drugs ain't fun,” Eggsy said as he started walking away.

Harry nodded, but couldn't think of anything he might have needed from upstairs. "I'll tell you if I do," he said, mentally adding 'or just go get it myself.' He'd made it up them once before; he was well assured he'd be able to do it again. 

It was then that Harry realized he didn't have any idea what to actually _ do _ . Days off were rare occurrences and this one was only forcibly available. At least lounging around in his own home was better than being confined to a hospital bed. Marginally.

-

Eggsy took his time upstairs, showering and shaving and washing the sleep from his face. It was nice, and he actually felt more relaxed despite the possibility for tension in being left alone with Harry for an indeterminate amount of time. It would probably be fine. After all, in any normal marriage this would be happening two days a week.

He came back downstairs in a pair of his own sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt, opting for what were essentially pajamas as it was evidently a lazy day. He could always change later if need be. 

As Eggsy wandered back down and returned to his usual spot on the couch, an idea occurred to him. 

"I see you also decided to opt for comfort over style," Harry commented, looking up from the book he'd picked up. He wasn't really reading it, just skimming through the pages. 

"And I ain't got stitches, look at that,” Eggsy grinned, looking over at him. Book? No no. He got up from his seat again, walking over to his gaming system and putting a disc in. Good thing he had multiple controllers still sitting out from when his friends had been over just two days ago. He brought over two of them, dropping one beside Harry, and plopped back in his seat as he turned on the television without a word.

Harry had already gone back to flicking through the pages when something dropped beside him, and he raised an eyebrow when he saw what it was. It inched up further when the telly clicked on and he spotted the matching controller in Eggsy's hands. "And what do you expect me to do with this?" he asked, giving it a bit of a nudge with his elbow. 

"Honestly, I'm expecting you to lose," Eggsy replied casually, flicking through the main option screens and choosing the game screen. He sat there with his legs folded, leaning forward and holding the controller in his hands. "Maybe mix up accelerate and reverse, crash the car. Something like that, probably," he said as he scrolled through some options.

That sounded like a challenge. Harry set the book aside, sitting up to face the screen better and taking a quick glance over the controller, memorizing the button placement. "What is it that I'm supposed to be losing at?" he asked. 

Eggsy's lips twitched, only actually picking the multiplayer option when Harry replied. He wasn't sure how he would react actually, mostly expecting a 'No, Eggsy.' And until he heard that, he was taking a vague follow up question as a go ahead. "Racing game. You can try and beat me -- but mostly just don't be last."

"Last, the very idea," Harry scoffed, secretly hoping he didn't actually come in last now, because that would look a little embarrassing, wouldn't it? "At least give me the first lap as practice." 

"First lap, yeah sure," Eggsy grinned, perfectly willing to give him a singular practice lap to try and gain as much knowledge of the controls as he'd gained in three years. Eggsy leaned over to Harry, tilting the controller a bit and pointing to various buttons as the screen loaded up the beginner's map he'd selected. "Accelerate. Break. View shift. Nitro. Crashing into the wall is bad." 

Harry could have figured the last bit out on his own, but he didn't mention that, just nodded confirmation and glanced back up at the screen. "Nitro is...?" 

"Temporary speed boost. More strategic than anything." Eggsy shrugged, resettling in his seat and holding his controller tightly in concentration; he was actually excited. He hoped that Harry enjoyed it even a little bit, despite himself.

A temporary speed boost sounded useful. Harry turned his focus on the actual game, mentally reviewing the buttons and what they were for, lips moving as he went through his mental list. When the actual game started, he pressed forward on one of the small joysticks, and the car zipped off. 

When the race started, Eggsy's car zoomed out ahead, not really going at his usual speed and handling so he could keep one eye on Harty's portion of the split screen. He'd selected a level that would pop up with the driving hints that would come up in single player, such as 'tap break to drift,' a concept Eggsy felt was better learned by doing, anyway. It was weird looking at the very familiar map with fresh eyes, trying to see it as a first time player would. The graphics really were still beautiful, the city street complete with puddles and subtle reflections that still held up even after all the advancements made in the last three years. Eggsy’s car crashed when his attention was on Harry's screen, and he blinked, snapping back to watching his own, and realizing he'd taken the more annoying split path on accident, shit.

The game looked nice, that was the first thing Harry noticed. The second thing he noticed was that his car was hurtling forward even though the road started curving to the left. He overcompensated, sending the car into a near-spiral before he was able to correct and get it swerving back onto the actual path. Using that nitro would probably be a bad idea until he got to a straight stretch, he thought to himself as he barely made the next corner. 

Words kept popping up in the corner of the screen, but Harry mostly ignored them, concentrating on learning the controls himself. A couple of times he wondered why his car wasn't responding the way he wanted it to before realizing he was watching Eggsy's portion of the screen. He snorted when the car that  _ wasn’t  _ his crashed. 

"Oi, shut up," Eggsy said distractedly, albeit with a grin. The car was respawned at the previous checkpoint and he was on his way again, weaving in and out of the other pedestrian cars and trying to avoid obstacles, much more expertly than he’d been doing a moment ago. When he was about to round the bend to start his second lap, he slowed his car down, again looking over at Harry's screen. "About done with your training lap, bruv?" he asked, slowing enough to risk looking over at Harry's face as well.

Harry was nearly finished with his first lap by the time Eggsy had slowed to a near crawl. "Just about, yes," he said, still aching to try out the nitro boost. There hadn't been any straight enough stretches and he kept mucking up the turns. But he wasn't going to get much better with even two or three more laps of practice, so he brought the car to a halt besides Eggsy’s. "Perhaps I should be preparing to lose after all." 

It was sort of funny to see Harry, usually so proper, in sweatpants and a button up with a controller in his hands. Eggsy had to admit, he rather liked it. He kept looking at him a second too long before returning to looking at the screen, a half-grin on his lips. "Promise not to take the mickey out of you too bad." 

"Very gracious of you," Harry deadpanned. 

The NPC cars were still going, so Eggsy cancelled the race and started up a new one on the same map, waiting for the 3-2-1 countdown to start.

Damn, the same map was loading up. No opportunities to test anything out until he got better at all those blasted turns. Engrossed as Harry was with making sure he knew his way around the controller, he didn't even notice Eggsy staring at him, only looked up when the countdown started. “The same one again?”

Eggsy snorted, continuing to grin. Harry would have to learn this lesson the hard way like everyone else. "That ain't me, bruv, that's how the map loads. It’s so you can time your starting boost. Like this," he said as the countdown timer hit 2, then 1. Eggsy hit the accelerator early and rocketed out of the starting line ahead of half the NPCs and Harry as well, starting him out early in 3rd place. "Or blow out your engine if you fuck it up."

"What-?" Harry asked, startled both by the end of the countdown and Eggsy's enthusiastic takeoff. He scrambled to catch up, but it was useless unless he wanted to pull out the boost. Might as well. Harry pressed the button, blue flames shooting out from the exhaust pipes of his hot rod, propelling him at an alarming speed towards the first wall. His car swerved wildly around the building's edge, skidding into and bouncing off of a building on the opposite side. But the boost got him back on track quickly enough, and he even managed to pass a couple of the NPCs. The very tip of his tongue poked out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on making the next, tight turn. 

Eggsy wasn't about to hold back, not during the actual race, even if it was Harry's first time. His car easily handled the tight and large turns, tires screeching realistically as he hit the brake on turns to pull off a drift, his teeth worrying his lower lip in concentration. It wasn't hard to get from 3rd to 1st on such an easy map, weaving and checking the rear camera to cut off NPCs that would try to pass him. He spared glances at Harry's screen when he hit a straight stretch, smiling to himself when he heard the burst of the nitro working its magic.

Harry managed to pass a couple more of the NPCs before his nitro ran out and he found himself zipping along at a remarkably reduced speed. It did help him take the next turn better, though, the car not even coming close to skidding into the side of a building that time. He noticed the bright, flashy colors of Eggsy's car on the map ahead of him and shoved the joystick as far forward as it could go, silently urging his own to go faster. "Come on, come on," he muttered quietly under his breath, swerving to go around one of the NPCs. 

Eggsy, having learned to be much more conservative and opportunistic with his own nitro stores, watched Harry's approach on his mini-map. There was no question he was going to play this correctly, up to his usual skill level; the question was whether or not to be a dick about it for fun. He could speed up at the last stretch, letting Harry get close enough to him to watch as he raced ahead and crossed the finish line with flames behind his tires. Or he could not be a dick, and just use it now while he was in sight (he could see his car on Harry's screen even). He opted for the latter, as he could always be a prick later on if Harry ever decided to play with him again, and he did quite a lot of that with his friends anyway. So he hit his own nitro just on the tail end of a hairpin turn, shooting himself out ahead at heart-stopping speed, humming innocently to himself where he sat.

Eggsy's car zipped off, nitro-fueled engine bringing him way ahead of Harry, too large a distance for him to have much hope of catching up. But at least, Harry thought, he wasn't going to come in last. The majority of the computer's cars were behind him, and he cut another one off even as that thought occurred to him. It spun off to the right and, the way now cleared, Harry spun around the final turn, the finish line coming into view. 

When Eggsy crossed the line, the game automatically started showing footage of a victory lap, freeing him up to catch the end of Harry's race not all that far behind him. He set the controller down to the side, rather impressed that he ended up doing as well as he did, especially for what he had taken to be his first foray into video gaming in quite awhile. Maybe that was his mistake in assumption. "Look at you, not last," he grinned, shifting a bit in his seat until he was half-turned towards him. 

"Well, I told you I wouldn't be, didn't I?" Harry said, setting the controller off to one side after he'd crossed the finish line and the race ended. "But I concede the victory to you. You've proven yourself capable of beating out an old man who's never played before."

"That's all I ever wanted,” Eggsy said as he stretched a bit, unfolding his legs and sitting properly. "What did you think? Enjoy racing around, ramming other cars and beating them?" 

Harry paused briefly before nodding. "Yes, actually, I rather enjoyed that. It was more fun than I thought it would be." 

Eggsy beamed, genuinely happy to hear that Harry had had fun with something that was one of his favourite things to do. "Good," was all he said to encapsulate the thought, bobbing his head in a slow nod. "Was only gonna make you play the one since you're here." He meant it as a sort of open invitation; Eggsy would be happy to keep playing with him, or by himself.

"I think one loss is enough for tonight," Harry replied, moving to set the controller off to the side. He settled back where he had been, though, still mostly facing the television. Reaching to pick up his book, he flicked it open to the page he hadn't really been reading, and went back to skimming through it. 

After repositioning himself, Eggsy picked up his controller again and backed out of the menu to play on his own on a more complicated map. He could play for quite some time, especially since that was all he was intending to do anyway.

Try as he might to focus on the actual novel, Harry found his eyes drifting mostly back and forth between Eggsy or the screen, where his car was zipping along. After a couple of laps, he stretched out his leg to nudge Eggsy's foot with his own. "You were holding back," he stated, nodding towards the television. 

"Hm?" It took Eggsy a second to respond; only after he’d navigated a particularly tricky jump and had a relatively clear stretch did he turn his head to speak, his eyes locked on the screen. "Was I?" he asked innocently.

Harry snorted. "I'd say so." He watched Eggsy get through the rest of the course with relative ease before one eyebrow quirked up slightly. "Just how good do you think you are at this game, then?" 

"One of the best," Eggsy said with a light chuckle as he won once again. "I been playing for awhile, online too against actual people, which is what I usually do. Doesn't hurt that I know how real cars handle like, and this is pretty accurate."

Harry just hummed at that, attention seemingly devoted entirely back to the screen. He shifted slightly, the book sliding off his lap to the sofa cushions. "Online?" he asked. "You can do that?" 

"Mhmm," Eggsy hummed as he backed out once again, pulling up the menu reading 'play online' to show Harry his profile. "If you've got an account on the PlayStation Network you can play with other people around the world. Usually it'll be bored American and Asian kids," he snorted, shaking his head. His account pulled up, eggsrewin, and he showed him the menu and waiting races board. "And if I got my headphones and mic plugged in, I can talk to them. No two games are the same, so you know, I can play for ages."

"Is this what you do all day?" Harry asked, clearly amused. He scanned over the stats that the profile displayed and, though he didn't really know much about the game, he thought they seemed rather impressive. 

"Think I've got anything else to do?" It sounded more pathetic than Eggsy had meant it to, and he looked over to Harry with a self-satisfied smile to make up for the poor wording.

Harry had to concede that point. He didn't keep much to do for pleasure around the house, and Eggsy had to spend all day in it. "Go on, then. Show me how well you do against actual competition," he prompted, inching a bit closer. 

Eyebrows raising a bit in surprise, Eggsy nonetheless did as he suggested. It was a little unexpected that Harry gave enough of a shit to want to see, but he wasn't complaining. This was something he was good at, and he rather liked showing off. 

So he joined a queue, which mercifully was just about full, voted on a map (his wasn't decided on, but a tricky one was, he was pleased to see), swapped his usual car for his Porsche Spyder, and idled his car at the starting line for the others to all load in. Next to the player list was a little flag from their country, and he was right, they were mostly American with a few Japanese kids and an Australian tossed in for good luck. The countdown started, and the happy look usually on Eggsy’s face turned to one of concentration, eyes slightly narrowed as he waited.

The look had Harry's lips curling at the edges into a bit of a smile and he settled in a few inches closer to Eggsy, patiently waiting for the race to begin.

Eggsy was so intently focused on getting his timing right that he didn't even notice Harry's getting closer to him; not that he'd've minded much if he did. 

The race officially started, and Eggsy once again rocketed out of the gate, flying by a few competitors who hadn't yet mastered the speed boost start and smirking to himself as he watched one blow out his engine. It was easy to fall into a kind of autopilot, to look at the screen and see his position, the obstacles he knew for a fact were coming and where, visualizing the other players from their dots on the mini-map, and dodging the players close to him who would try to make him spin out or take a wrong path. He'd done this so much, all of this was muscle memory, and it took only half of the first lap to assess who would be an actual challenge and to predict he was going to at least make third place, if not first.

By now, Eggsy knew his habit of playing with his lips and muttering every now and then when he was playing a game, hissing 'shit' and 'motherfucker' under his breath when something or someone legitimately tripped him up. 

When Eggsy wasn’t swearing, he was usually worrying his lip subconsciously, biting and rebiting and playing with it with his teeth as the race wore on. When it came to the final bend of the last lap, it was between him and the little american flag reading 'xXWingZXx' that had been giving him the most trouble all race. But, perceptive as he had been forcing himself to be, he estimated him to be out of his stock of nitro. Eggsy himself had just a little left over that he had been saving, and he was willing to take a gamble. Come the home stretch, he half-smirked and said just above a whisper, as if to himself, 'yippie-ki-yay motherfucker' and slammed his remaining nitro, bursting himself just far enough ahead to finish in first.

Eggsy grinned and snickered to himself as the screen played the auto-victory lap footage while the minimap showed when the remaining players finished. He finally looked over at Harry, rather pleased with himself. "If I had my headphones on, I guarantee you he'd be cursing me out right now. I love pulling shit like that." 

Harry had to admit, Eggsy's high estimation of himself didn't really seem unfounded, not with the way he artfully handled his car at the beginning of the race. Harry didn't see much of the race after that, though. His eyes were drawn more towards Eggsy's mouth. When Eggsy wasn't muttering curses or chewing at it, it still hung open a tiny bit, as if he just couldn't be bothered to close it.

It proved to be quite the distraction. It wasn't like Harry was dead; he was attracted to Eggsy, naturally. The man was young and handsome, it wasn't all that surprising. And now that the knowledge of Kingsman was out, Harry didn't have to worry as much about Eggsy catching a glimpse of his battered skin.

Eggsy's quiet Die Hard reference jerked Harry out of his thoughts just in time to see the move he pulled, the last-minute burst of nitro propelling him over the finish line just ahead of his opponent. The game started its instant replay and Eggsy glanced over at him. Maybe Harry should have stopped himself from leaning over, closing the gap that he'd narrowed to a few inches over the course of the race, and pressing his lips to Eggsy's, but he didn't.

It wasn't like in the movies, where a sudden and unexpected kiss rendered the recipient frozen or making a surprised sound or blinking repeatedly in confusion. Eggsy had his head on a little straighter than that. He wasn't expecting a kiss after that, especially with the infrequency with which Harry seemed wont to give them, but he also wasn't complaining much. Kisses were nice. His initial surprise was more expressed in the twitch of his lips against Harry's, the moment of hesitation before he was kissing him back.

Harry turned it into a lingering one, reluctant to pull away quite as soon as he had most of the other times, his fingertips reaching up to brush softly over Eggsy’s cheek. When he did pull away, it was with a bit of a smirk. "Consider that a thank you for not pulling that same move on me," he said lightly. 

This time was a little like the movies, Eggsy’s heart fluttering from the fingertips and the lingering kiss. He always did have a weakness for shit like that, even as he was the one usually pulling it. When Harry pulled back, he smirked right back at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. "I'll have to keep that in mind. Not pulling dick moves gets a kiss, good to know."

Shrugging one shoulder, Harry sat back. "I would have kissed you even if you had done it. Sweeten you up for next time," he said with a bit of a wink before picking his book back up. 

Eggsy grinned, exhaling a small laugh under his breath. This was actually nice, with far less tension than there would have been just a handful of days ago. He stretched a bit, folding his legs up again as he started playing another round. "What are you reading?"

Harry had to actually look at the cover to figure it out, having not been paying much attention to the actual plot line. " _ Stardust _ ," he said. "Merlin recommended it once, years ago, and I figured I might as well use this down time to actually get around to it." 

"Oh I know that one," Eggsy said, a bit of interest in his voice even as his eyes remained on the television, waiting for a new race. "It’s, er, Gaiman, yeah? Sort of remember that one. Falling stars," he smiled lightly, trying to remember the story.

"Yes, falling stars and the men they fall in love with," Harry said. "Have you read it, then?" 

"Ages and ages ago. It's like fifteen years old or something." Eggsy shrugged, starting to play, not performing quite up to par as he was keeping track of the conversation. "Mum used to have me read lots of out-there shit. I don't remember much, but I remember liking it."

"Good," Harry said, closing the book up and tossing it onto the coffee table. "Then you can just summarize it for me, and I can tell Merlin I've read it." 

"Memory's a bit rusty..." Eggsy frowned, clicking his tongue once. "Pretty sure a star falls to earth, boy falls in love with star, they become obsessed with finding a white whale, solve mysteries in London, fend off the feelings of a standoffish rich bloke because they're prejudiced but end up marrying him anyway, and it ends with them getting sacrificed to the elder gods to forestall the end of days. I think there's a gay Robert DiNiro in there somewhere." He nodded, eyes narrowed as he played his game.

Harry glanced back at the book. "Perhaps I should give it more of a chance," he mused. That certainly sounded better than some of the other things Merlin had recommended to him over the many years he had known him, even if half that list was from other books. 

"Mhmm, my favourite was always the descriptive tentacle porn bit. Very tasteful," Eggsy said, glancing over at him out of the corner of his eye. "Real page turner."

Harry's brow furrowed, and he discreetly began flipping through the pages. "There's no tentacle porn in here," he muttered resolutely, looking through the book despite the assertion. 

"Yeah, there is," Eggsy said quite seriously, setting the controller down in his lap as he won a second time. He turned to face Harry. "Good too, easily in my top three."

Harry paused in his perusal of the pages to arch an eyebrow up at Eggsy. He looked and sounded quite serious, certainly, but he still didn't quite believe him. "You've read more than one scene of tentacle porn? Enough to have a top three?"

"Have you not?" Eggsy managed the straight face for another second, but that seemed to be what broke his serious streak, and he was grinning at him, his head tilted. Harry had to know he was just messing with him by now, surely.

"No, I can honestly say that I haven't," Harry said lightly, gaze softening as Eggsy grinned at him. "I haven't read much erotica at all, actually, tentacle or otherwise."

"Really?" Eggsy's eyebrows raised, mildly surprised. Not that he'd been thinking Harry  _ would  _ be an avid tentacle porn reader, but still. Then what did he read on his phone on nights where he couldn't sleep? Eggsy shrugged with a look of 'to each their own.' "No Fifty Shades on your bedside, then?"

That got a grimace out of Harry. "No, that one I did read," he admitted. "Not that it was worth reading, but it made its rounds through the office. Real estate, not Kingsman," he clarified, though he happened to know that Bors and Percival had also plowed through it.

Eggsy's head dipped in disbelief. "You're shitting me. You've read Fifty fucking Shades." He shook his head, trying not and failing to laugh. "You'll get the summary on Stardust, but you'll actually read Fifty Shades. Unbelievable."

Much as he would like one, Harry really didn't have much of an excuse. "Well, there's not really much to summarize about Fifty Shades is there?" he countered. 

"Abusive relationship with poor depictions involving BDSM that caused a sexual awakening in uncomfortably older women. Just saved you several unpleasant hours," Eggsy snorted.

"’Uncomfortably older’ women, is it?" Harry teased lightly.

"I got no problem with older women," Eggsy clarified, wrinkling his nose. "But that don't mean I like hearing middle aged and up women bringing Popsicles and shit to the theater when they see the movie. There's some information I can't un-know."

Harry shook his head slowly. "That is also more than I needed to know, thank you, Eggsy.”

"And yet you won't read Stardust. You see why I'm so outraged," Eggsy said, shaking his head right back at him. "So disappointed."

"Somehow I think I can live with your disappointment," Harry said, shrugging one shoulder. 

"...Right. You're being punished for that." With that, Eggsy shifted his hips and threw his legs over Harry's, his knees in his lap and feet wiggling off to the side. "You'll have to sit like that for awhile."

For a brief second, Harry considered pretending Eggsy had irritated his wound, but decided that would be taking it a step too far, given how much concern Eggsy had showed about it up to that point. Instead, he only scoffed. "Remind me never to let you come up with my torture techniques," he said. 

"I’m a hard ass, I know," Eggsy nodded, wiggling his legs a bit in Harry’s surprisingly comfortable lap. For whatever reason, Eggsy was always expecting him to be hard or unyielding, like an uncomfortable chair, most likely because of the lingering first impression he'd left. Eventually, he'd stop being mildly surprised by the warm squishiness. "If you'll recall, the only instances of punishment I've seen from you were pulling me on your lap during our wedding, and hiding biscuits I made from me to make me feel like an idiot. I'd say I'm about up to par so far," Eggsy smirked.

Harry let his head fall back onto the sofa cushions, one hand falling to rest on top of Eggsy's leg. The weight was more comforting than unsettling and that surprised him. When had he gotten used to Eggsy? More importantly, when had he gotten used to being  _ touched  _ by Eggsy? "Yes, you're keeping up quite nicely. And just be glad I've gone easy on you; there's far worse where that came from."

"Think you're bluffing, bruv," Eggsy said, half-lidded eyes looking from his legs to Harry's face. "You've got nothing else."

That certainly sounded like a challenge to Harry. "Is that so? Very well. Go out for a day, come back, and see what color that car is. Because I assure you, I have no issue spray-painting it bright pink.”

The lazy relaxed look was replaced by alarmed suspicion within the span of a second, Eggsy’s eyes widening then narrowing immediately after. He wasn't so much put off by the colour pink, it wasn't his favourite colour, but anyone who would say anything negative about it would just get the model of the car rubbed in their face. No, it was the idea of anything at all happening to that car. Sure it was still Harry's so he could technically do what he liked with it, but Eggsy had been fawning over and obsessing over that car for weeks. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to it. "You wouldn't," he said, still considering it a bluff, though sounding a lot less confident.

Harry chose not to say anything at all to that, instead just humming thoughtfully and returning to Stardust. He'd lost his place what with flipping around in his vain search for tentacle porn, but he decided starting over might just be for the best anyways. It wasn't like he'd really been reading it beforehand. 

Eggsy's face slowly fell from suspicion to a pout when Harry diverted his attention elsewhere and refused to answer him. With a huff, Eggsy picked up his controller again, planning on playing while he read with his legs still decidedly in Harry’s lap, and honestly, he could think of worse ways to spend the day.

Harry's attention was soon mostly taken by the book, actually absorbing the words this time, getting sucked into the story. Absently, without even realizing it, his thumb slowly stroked Eggsy's leg, still resting gently atop of it. 

Eventually Eggsy took notice of the subtle movement of Harry's hand, clearly subconscious and an oddly affectionate way to make use of his hands while reading. Eggsy smiled to himself without drawing attention to it. He did have to give him credit now for trying; when Harry had said he would try harder to make whatever this was work however it was going to, Eggsy counted this as effort, as it would have been just as easy, if not easier, to move away from him or read upstairs in peace. It was turning out to be an effective effort, too. Sure, it was slow, happening little by little, but Eggsy was feeling more relaxed just being there with him.


	13. A Discussion

Eggsy had no idea how much time was passing. All the races and maps blurred together especially in repetition, and he had no idea if this was the second or fourth time he was playing this specific map, but he was starting to get a bit bored with it. That was why he had so many games; they all got boring after a few hours. So he logged out and left the television idling on the system menu screen. He rested his head against the back of the couch with his eyes closed, arms resting loosely in his lap

It took a bit for Harry to register that the television was no longer blaring racing music, absorbed as he was in the novel. When he looked up to see why, he noticed the game was no longer playing, and he glanced over at Eggsy to find him resting peacefully. "Eggsy," he said softly, not wanting to disturb him if he was truly asleep.

"Mmm," Eggsy hummed, opening one eye a crack. "Harry?" He was quite awake, but he also wasn't ready to stand and get up or find something else to do.

"I'm afraid your feet are going to have to find another place to live for a moment," Harry informed him, lifting his hand to free Eggsy’s leg.

“You ask so much of me," Eggsu grumbled, but he moved, removing his legs from Harry's lap and letting them hit the floor with a soft thud. His eyes stayed open this time, looking at Harry with the vaguest of interest.

Harry slowly got up, wincing a bit and lurching his way to his feet. He straightened up as much as he could and made his way towards the stairs.

Honestly, Eggsy had nearly forgotten about Harry’s injury with how little it seemed to bother him. He frowned to himself briefly and watched him go. Was he going to come back? Either way, Eggsy yawned and let his head hit the couch again.

Harry paused at the base of the stairs, sighing once before starting the slow process of heading up them. After the third or fourth, he resolved to just bring the pain medication back down with him. It would be more useful before he had to make his way up, as he was finding out.

Eggsy just chalked this up to the desire for privacy or stubbornness, as he'd offered to help if Harry needed it. He closed his eyes, feeling calm enough to sit there and do nothing, awake, but not really thinking about much.

Eventually, Harry reached the linen closet stuffed full of medical supplies. It didn't take him long to find the strongest painkillers he had and toss back a couple of them, keeping the bottle in his grasp as he navigated his way back down until he could set it on the kitchen counter. "I'll be quite relieved when I don't have to deal with this bloody injury anymore," he sighed.

Only when the bottle hit the counter did Eggsy snap out of it, and, blinking, he lifted his head and looked over at him. "I’m sure it hurts like a bitch. Is that the worst one?" He stood up, standing beside the seat on the couch instead as he looked over to the kitchen area.

"By far. Pain-wise, perhaps not, but it is the closest I've ever come to dying," Harry said, sinking into a seat at the table. It bothered him, how quickly he became exhausted, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"What could hurt worse than getting shot like that?" Eggsy took slow steps over to Harry, a frown tugging lightly at the corners of his mouth. He had so many questions about the whole spy thing if he thought about it, so many different things he wanted to know but didn't want to overload Harry with (or himself for that matter, now that he'd gotten himself back to normal).

Harry mentally ticked back through the plethora of injuries he'd sustained over the years. "Once," he said, leaning back against the counter, "all of my fingernails were pulled off. Wouldn't have compared, but it was far slower. Sustained pain is worse than a gunshot."

Eggsy's nose wrinkled, and he made a sound in his throat somewhere between sympathy and disgust. That sounded painful as fuck and _cruel._ Who still even did shit like that? "...How in the fuck? That's probably one of the worst things I can think of."

"Mmmm," Harry hummed noncommittally. "There are worse things one could do. At least fingernails grow back." He lifted his hand and examined it as if to prove that they had, in fact, regenerated.

Well, one more thing to add to the list of things Harry had given up. Fucking fingernails, that's intense. Eggsy just shook his head with a silent chuckle, amazed at how different their scope of things really were. 'There were worse things.' Not much worse than getting your fingernails ripped out, that he could think of. He just gave a small smile, his hands finding the pockets of his sweatpants reflexively.

"I can handle a little soreness," Harry said, shrugging one shoulder. "But your feet on my lap, now that was the real torture," he teased lightly.

"Yes, just like I planned it to be," Eggsy smirked, his head tilting. "And without painting your car."

"I won't paint the car. Too much time and effort for not enough payout," Harry said as he reached for a glass of water to belatedly chase the pills with.

"I'm gonna show it extra love anyway. Make your threats up to it so it don't get its feelings hurt and stall on me." Eggsy fought the urge to hop up on the counter; he'd been sitting too much today already. He should be on his feet for a bit.

Harry snorted in amusement and shook his head. "It had better not stall on you anytime soon," he said. "It _is_ still fairly new." His mouth split open in a wide yawn and a wave of exhaustion suddenly swept over him. It was a reminder of how little sleep he'd gotten the previous night. "Think I'm going to try and get some rest."

"Probably a good idea." Eggsy slid his phone out of his pocket and checked the time before nodding and continuing. "Don't be going on the stairs more than you have to. Text me if you need shit, but if you're going to nap, I'm probably going out for a bit. So. Don't need shit while I'm gone," he said with a half-smirk.

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said solemnly, seriously considering just sleeping on the sofa. It meant he could avoid another trip up the stairs and that was pretty appealing at the moment. His gaze lingered on Eggsy for just a bit. He wanted to kiss the smirk off of his lips but wasn't quite sure how he would take that. In the end, he just turned and started for the sofa.

Eggsy followed him out just enough to turn for the stairs, jogging up them to grab a change of clothes. Sweatpants and sleeveless shirts were all well and good for lounging around, but not so much for leaving the house. He changed into his usual street clothes, straightened the blue hat he popped on his head, and grabbed the small bag from the floor, throwing it over his shoulder as he started down the stairs.

"I'll see you later," Eggsy called as he grabbed the car keys and a set of front-door keys from the key hook he so rarely touched. It felt a little odd to be the one leaving and saying goodbye to Harry, but only enough to warrant a smile. "Bye, Harry."

Harry grabbed one of the sofa pillows and decided it was good enough. He was used to sleeping in far more uncomfortable conditions. He carefully lowered himself back onto it, stretching out and closing his eyes. By the time Eggsy was thumping back down the stairs, he was already almost half asleep.

"Night, Eggsy," he mumbled in response to what he assumed was a farewell. He didn't really know, and he didn't really care either. Soon, he was well and truly asleep.

Eggsy barely heard anything from Harry, but he shrugged and headed out all the same.

-

Eggsy was out for quite awhile, taking some time to take care of the car just on principle. It hadn't been long, but he honestly was very attached to it. This was 100% an excuse, and a loose one at best, for him to touch it and give it attention, taking it to a car wash and paying for a premium wash and feeling like he imagined a sugar daddy taking care of his baby would with how rotten he was spoiling it. He took his satisfaction in the form of a nice drive, taking the long way and swinging by his flat to say hello to his mum.

From there, Eggsy took the bag he had brought with him and went to the gym. He had been itching to go for the past two days, but he'd been too anxious the day before, what with being hungover in the morning and thinking about Harry in the hospital. And today, he noted as the sun was going down, he’d mostly spent sitting inside playing games. Without anyone to chase him about, he was feeling the itch of lack of physical exercise, and went at it quite hard that day to make up for it.

Once he was done and showered, he packed up and started to head back to the house in the nice, shiny, clean car.

Eggsy wasn't really sure what he would do if Harry was still sleeping on the couch. It had been a few hours; maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. And if he was, he was in Eggsy’s main space for entertainment, and he had no back ups. He... would just go to his room, then? Sneak up some food? Play on his phone till he got tired enough to fall asleep? He shrugged to himself as he locked the car and walked up to the front door, keys jingling as he shimmied them around for the right one. It didn't really matter, he supposed. As long as Harry was healing up.

The deep sleep Harry had fallen into at first hadn't lasted long. It soon gave way to shallow rest plagued by nightmares, lances of pain driving through his side despite the pain killers. He was back in the cold, dank compound, desperately making his way through the maze of corridors without Merlin to guide him. It was only his sense of direction that saved him, and even that hadn't been enough to keep him from rounding the corner into an unexpected gunshot.

Harry bolted awake when it fired, sweat shimmering on his forehead, heart racing, side feeling as if it were on fire. Gingerly, he pressed his hand against it, felt the skin warmer than usual, but not quite fever level. He should be fine. Groaning, he hauled himself to his feet, staggering into the kitchen and fumbling for his glass.

He filled it with ice from the freezer and pressed it to the sides of his face, cooling himself off until his heart rate settled a little more. The sharp, shooting sensations dulled into more of an ache, and he swallowed down another couple of pills after deciding he really didn't give a fuck about dosage and interim periods.

The sharp jingle of keys in the lock alerted him to Eggsy's imminent presence, and he winced his way towards the stairs. Seeing him like this would only make Eggsy worry.

Not wanting to wake Harry should he still be asleep, Eggsy entered the house as quietly as he could, peeking out at what he could see from the doorway. Carefully, he dropped his bag in the entryway and hung up the keys again, taking Harry to be asleep as he wasn't really hearing much. Shrugging to himself (maybe he was out for the night?) he decided he may as well get up to his room and not disturb him. If he wanted food, he could sneak down later.

Eggsy made for the stairs, stopping once he caught the sound of subtle creaking he had missed before. "Harry?" he asked the house at large with a frown, just below normal speaking volume, not totally convinced he’d heard anything at all.

Harry barely heard Eggsy come in and mentally thanked him for being quiet enough to let him sleep. He'd just made it to the top of the stairs when he heard him call out, and mentally debated whether or not to answer. "I'm here, Eggsy," he called down.

"Oh." Eggsy glanced behind him at the vacated couch, and only then realized he'd really had absolutely no plan here. Now he knew where Harry was, he didn't really have any follow up, not wanting to bother him much, especially since he didn't have anything important to say. "Well. I'm back now, thought I should let you know. So I don't scare you later or something."

That was sufficiently awkward for one interaction. Changing plans on the fly as Harry was upstairs and not down, Eggsy turned right around and went to stand in the living room instead, choosing to be awkward and unsure of his plan alone in there rather than alone in his room.

Chuckling slightly at the hesitation he heard in Eggsy's voice, Harry just shook his head and continued on towards his bedroom. "It's good to know," he called back over his shoulder.

Eggsy shouldn't be so awkward. Shaking his head, he flopped down onto the couch, which was still slightly warm from Harry's occupying it not too long ago. He lay there with his eyes closed, letting himself sink down. Maybe he would fall asleep here for a bit, too.

His earlier nap hadn't much helped him, and Harry was beginning to wonder if he was just going to have to sedate himself in order to get some decent sleep. He shuffled his way into his bathroom, bracing himself on the counter and glaring at his reflection in the mirror. It was good, he thought, that he'd avoided Eggsy, given the person staring back at him. There were bags under his red-rimmed eyes and his hair was matted to his forehead from sweat. His cheeks and neck were flushed and he still felt warmer than normal so he flipped his shower on, turning the faucet to cold.

The trousers were easy enough to get off, but when it came time to take off his shirt, Harry hesitated. Eventually, he just gritted his teeth and hissed slowly as he peeled it off. He tore away the bandage to find the stitches red and a bit angry but otherwise undisturbed. The cold water felt good on his overheated skin, and he let himself relax a bit in the water rolling steadily down his body.

It may have been the slowness of the morning combined with the spurt of activity of the last three hours, but Eggsy was feeling sluggish and fatigued enough to fall into a light sleep. He curled up on the couch, facing the back of it, and folded his arms beneath his head for a makeshift pillow. It wouldn't hurt to rest here. Just for a few minutes. Or maybe hours. Whichever came first.

Harry lost track of time, standing under the showerhead, waiting until he felt cool all over. He didn't really care; the water bill would be paid easily enough, and it wasn't like he indulged in long showers very often. Once he no longer felt like there was a fever just itching to break out, he shut it off and dried himself, slipping back into the same clothes he'd been wearing before taking a second look in the mirror. Much more presentable, Harry decided.

The redness to his eyes was gone and his skin had faded to a more natural color. Sighing, he started the semi-arduous journey back down the stairs.

By that point, Eggsy was still quite asleep, taking up Harry's spot. If more evidence was needed that Eggsy was a bit of a restless sleeper, what had started as a neat and compact position was now unraveled, one of his feet touching the floor while the other dangled over an armrest. Only one of his arms remained as a pillow; the other was sprawled over the other armrest, leaving him somehow taking up the entire sofa and then some, his hat sliding around on his head yet somehow still clinging on for dear life. His winged shoes, however, had found their way to the floor, and from their haphazard position he might have nudged them off before lying down, or his sleepy self might have kicked them off uncaringly as it sought to make himself more comfortable.

Harry was just about to call for Eggsy when he noticed his sleeping form sprawled out on the sofa. He blinked for a moment, fascinated by how utterly relaxed and ridiculous he looked with his limbs star-fishing over the armrests. Chuckling softly to himself, Harry moved into the kitchen thinking of what he could prepare that would be relatively quiet. Settling on stuffed shells, he started gathering up the ingredients, careful to make as little noise as possible.

As Eggsy hadn't intended on falling asleep, it was the kind of involuntary sleep that lended itself to being easily woken up. Which was honestly a good thing; Eggsy hadn't really wanted to sleep, naps always made him feel weird and disconcerted at losing a chunk of the day afterwards.

A few minutes after Harry returned down stairs, a quieted and nondescript clink of kitchen tools clattering together was enough to startle Eggsy awake, his limbs twitching as his eyes snapped open. "Mff..." He twisted the right way around and sat up, rubbing his mouth to make sure there was no drool or other embarrassing sleep remnants on his face, and looked around for whatever had woken him. Further noise told him Harry was in the kitchen, so he slowly pushed himself all the way off the couch cushions, his hat still barely holding on and quite askew. He shuffled towards the sounds still coming from the kitchen.

"Sorry," Eggsy said, his voice a little lower than normal from the brief nap. (At least, he hoped it had been brief. He actually had no idea.) "Meant to do... not that."

Slightly startled by the sudden appearance of Eggsy (who didn't really look all that much better off than Harry had after his nap), Harry tensed briefly before realizing who it was. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," he apologized.

"Didn't mean to sleep," Eggsy snorted, waving his hand dismissively. He peered curiously at the ingredients Harry had gotten out, and hopped himself up on the counter, rubbing at his neck as he continued. "One second I'm thinking about what I'm gonna do to kill some time, the next, here I am." His nose wrinkled in clear distaste. "What are you doing in here?"

"Cooking," Harry said without missing a beat, returning to mixing up the stuffing for the shells. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Oh, that makes more sense. Thought you was composing a symphony." Eggsy smirked lightly, finally fixing his hat on properly. " _What_ are you cooking?" he clarified.

Harry's lips curved into a half-smile as he focused on the filling. "Stuffed shells. Fairly simple, probably something you could make once I start going back to work."

"I'm gonna be the best fucking house husband," Eggsy snickered, watching him work. "I'll keep that in mind then, looks fine," he hummed. It did look fairly simple, shells filled with things and presumably stuck in the oven, he could handle that. After all, he hadn't fucked up too badly doing anything so far, food or otherwise. Actually, he was nailing all of this. He deserved a pat on the back.

Harry wrapped the stuffing up in the shells, drizzled sauce over them and slipped them into the oven. He moved to stand in front of Eggsy, resting his hands on either side of his thighs and arching one eyebrow. "Is that your goal, then? Being a house husband?"

"God no." But Eggsy smirked, tilting his head as he looked at him. Was Harry’s hair damp? "But if I am one, I’d sure as fuck better get it right, eh?"

"I think you've done a fine job so far," Harry reassured him. "Maybe not exactly a house husband, but whatever you are, you're doing it well."

"Oh, believe me, if the phrase 'I've got no idea what I'm doing, but I know I'm doing it really, really well' were on a motivational poster, that shit'd be above my bed," Eggsy laughed, shaking his head.

"Now I know what to get you for Christmas," Harry teased. He moved away to start working on the dishes that he'd used to prepare the shells.

"Perfect." Eggsy smiled lightly at him as he moved to start working, and he wasn't even entirely certain why, he just knew it pulled at his lips and he didn't stop it. So he averted his eyes and looked to the floor instead to avoid what would essentially be staring at him.

There weren't many dishes to take care of, and Harry finished the washing up long before the shells were done cooking. "Did you want to do anything for that?"

"... What?" Eggsy blinked, looking at him again with his smile falling and eyebrows raising in mild confusion. He must have zoned out for a moment there.

"Christmas," Harry clarified, drying off the last plate. "How do you normally celebrate it?"

The last remnants of Eggsy’s smile fell from even his eyes, and his brow furrowed as he looked away again, back down to the floor. Christmas was a sore subject for him. Even when he’d lived at home, it had been a rather sullen time of year. He'd adjusted to casual remarks just fine, but during the time of year itself, he was usually rather withdrawn, even still.

"I er, don't." Eggsy shrugged, almost forcing himself to look at him again. He and Harry had been getting on pretty well, but he wasn't sure how much of this he was actually willing to share. Or indeed what Harry knew. If he was a spy, surely he had access to any information of Eggsy's that he wanted, could easily do a background check and piece it all together. It was all there. At this point Eggsy would be more surprised if Harry hadn't looked into him.

Harry stopped what he was doing, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms over his chest. "That works out rather well, then, seeing as I don't normally celebrate it either. I think I might have a tree somewhere, but I don't have much in the way of decorations or plans," he stated with a shrug.

Obviously, something had struck a chord with Eggsy, but Harry wasn't going to force him into getting personal. If he did that of his own accord, well and good, Harry would listen. But the fact remained that they were, essentially, still strangers to each other. He didn't know much about Eggsy, and Eggsy certainly didn't know much about him.

"Perfect then," Eggsy said, forcing some of his usual smirk and good mood onto his face again. He had no reason to be sulky about it, especially since Harry seemed to be enabling his distaste for the season. Surely his mother would be expecting him to come for Christmas Day, (shit, would she be expecting Harry or something as well? That wasn't going to happen; he'd much rather get in, do presents and dinner, and get out) but luckily, it looked like that would be Eggsy’s only interaction with the holiday. He could completely ignore it otherwise. Perfect, indeed.

"I usually get sent off on a mission around then, but I can ask Merlin to keep me here, if you'd prefer," Harry offered, not looking over at him. If Eggsy didn't think much of the season, it might be more helpful if Harry wasn't around, but he thought he might as well put it on the table anyways.

"Nah," Eggsy waved a hand, hopping down from the counter and standing instead, hands in his pockets. "Do what you do, don't worry about me."

Harry's brow furrowed a bit at that. "You're my husband, I'm supposed to worry about you," he countered.

"You’re also supposed to save the world, guv,” Eggsy smiled in response, soft and understanding. "Think saving lives and stopping baddies is more important than being my date to an awkward Christmas dinner and more of the same." Now he knew Harry's real job, it was obvious that Kingsman came first. It had to.

Harry had known that telling Eggsy about Kingsman would make things smoother, but he just shrugged in response. "In the grand scheme of things, maybe. But I'm not the only knight out there; if you want me to stay, I will."

Truthfully, Eggsy doubted the sincerity there. It was probably leftover from all the lies he'd been told until now; it was so easy to think that Harry was using lies to build trust, contradicting the thought he had brought up to him in the heat of his anger. Eggsy wasn't fully sold that Harry would be there if he needed him.

Still smiling, he touched Harry's shoulder and walked to the fridge. Eggsy wasn't fully conscious of the decision to grab himself booze, but now that it was made, he was sticking to it.

Raising an eyebrow at Eggsy's choice of drink, Harry decided to drop the topic. It didn't seem to be getting them anywhere anyways. The timer on the stove went off right about then, and he pulled out the shells, leaving them to cool as he got out plates.

Eggsy hovered as Harry started grabbing the plates and putting everything together, leaving briefly to set the drink he'd gotten himself at his usual place at the table. Returning to Harry's side, he waited patiently to be provided a plate, empty or otherwise, keeping in line with Harry's silent lead.

Harry scooped up a couple shells, deposited them on a plate, and handed it off to Eggsy before fixing up his own. He paused as he passed the fridge, hesitating only momentarily before reaching in for a beer of his own. Was it a little unwise to drink on top of the painkillers he'd taken earlier that day? Probably. but the atmosphere had soured somewhat, and Harry didn't intend to sit through it sober.

Eggsy was actually rather disappointed. With the sudden resurgence of the wall that was between them, the hopes he had had for starting fresh were diminished. It was mostly his own fault, he knew. Things had been going fine until he let the resentment and anger he obviously still had inside of him bubble up and shut Harry out again. Objectively, he hadn't even done anything wrong. But so desperate was Eggsy to not get himself hopeful and hurt and worked up again, that he shut himself down, and it cost him the rest of the evening. It was like the bullet, the anger explosion, the Kingsman revelation, had never happened. Awkward, tense, and heavy silence and strained conversation were thick in the air until Eggsy gave up and called it a night just to put an end to it.


	14. A Handjob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry Christmas Eve

That wasn't to say it was all bad, though. Together, they had made serious progress in the odd relationship they had patched together. It was like a quilt being made by two people who hadn't agreed on a plan or a theme for it, both showing up with their own squares and puzzling through how to fit them together. Every new event that sprung up was a new square, and it helped to start threading them together. Sometimes it looked as though there was a well defined path, and the only thing left to do was wait for the proper time to pass so they could be joined together successfully, and then one of them would veer off to the side to work on another portion, and it was chaos once again. 

All Eggsy could really do was hope to make something out of it, which he had a feeling they could do if they got enough of a grip on themselves to actually put forth the proper effort; the only problem was his impatience. It was going to take time, and he didn't want to give it. He always did want a fix as quickly as could be managed.

-

Now that Eggsy understood what Kingsman was and why Harry was gone and busy at all hours of the day, it was calmer around the house when Harry was actually home. They were both putting effort for casual touching, as if to make themselves better acclimated to each other. Hand holding, cheek cupping, shoulder touching found their way into the nighttime and early morning routine, as did genuine smiles and laughs that were more plentiful than in the past. Eggsy did genuinely enjoy Harry's company too, when he could get it. Even when it was just him reading while he played a game, it was nice to have a warm body beside him. A comfort to have another human being in the otherwise empty house he was so often alone in.

As Christmas approached, Eggsy started to get a bit depressed, as he did every time the season rolled around. He was good at hiding it. Its only real manifestation was in his sleeping habits, as he got fewer hours a night than before, and his blanket refusal to acknowledge Christmas at all, turning off the radio when songs came on, smiling in response to 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Holidays' when it was offered to him in the shops. As a child he had been far worse, getting particularly angry when he was seven and knocking over a shop’s Christmas tree and smashing an ornament or two. Now, after nearly eighteen years of acceptance, Eggsy was fine just ignoring it.

That didn't stop his mother from trying to fix him, though. She called him over at least once a week in the month preceding Christmas, asking for his help in decorating with all the things she had bought for their flat, more now that they could afford to spend a little extra without Eggsy's expenses to take care of. 

The week before Christmas, Eggsy was over with Michelle and Daisy, holding her in his lap while his mother baked the traditional cookies with a Santa hat perched precariously on the top of her head. Daisy also sported a red sparkly bow and a sweater with reindeer on it as she excitedly pointed out to Eggsy the minute he arrived. 

He was dressed no differently than usual, and had to kiss his mother's cheek in apology when he refused to put on the hat she had bought for him.

Michelle stirred up the batter while Daisy insisted that it was time for the Charlie Brown Christmas Special and she had to go. 

“Not without a kiss for big bruv,” Eggsy demanded, tickling her and letting her go only after she kissed his forehead and blew a raspberry in his face before running out. He laughed as she left, throwing one of his arms over the back of the chair to get more comfortable.

"Alright, mum?" he asked, realizing he should see if she needed help in there. 

Michelle was nearly buried with all the stacks of things on the counter tops, grocery bags and flour and sugar sacks taking up what little counter space there usually was."Fine, fine," she smiled, moving to sit beside him at the table, where a cutting board dusted with flour and a rolling pin were waiting. "Just the tedious part next." 

She settled down, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she floured up her hands and dumped the wad of dough onto the board. She blinked the flour out of her eyes as some puffed up in a cloud. "Been wanting a chat. I feel like it's been ages since we've gotten to talk proper," she said rather happily, starting to knead the dough.

This was completely untrue; they'd had a good conversation just last week and not enough happened in Eggsy's life to necessitate more frequent talks than that. 

But Eggsy humoured her and spoke as his head lolled lazily to the side. "What about? I told you that story of me learning to make that shepherd's pie twice already, ain't nothin else interesting happening to me," he grinned, just pleased she was taking enough of an interest in him to be so dutiful in checking in on him.

"Well it's Christmas, innit? You're married now! What is it you got planned, then? I haven't even been to see your home, has he got decorations already? I dunno about his family, either, are you spending time there? I'm sure they'd love to meet you," Michelle asked as she looked down into the dough, and while it may have been in concentration, Eggsy knew her well enough to know it was because she was asking a question without asking it, trying not to give herself away as she led him into telling her something.

His smile dropped. "Mum..." No mum, I'm not over it yet. Yes mum, I'm still against decorations. No mum, you can't come over right now. No mum, I don't know anything about his family either. He bit these all back, choosing to be more patient with her. "Harry don't really celebrate Christmas either. We aren't really doin nothing for it. I don't even know if we're doing presents." That was the one thing Eggsy did still do, but only out of social constraint. When someone gave you a present, saying 'I don't have anything for you because I don't believe in Christmas' never went over terribly well. He'd learned to just do it, and it wasn't that big of a deal; he liked giving presents anyway. He just told himself it was because he loved the people close to him, not because it was Christmas.

"Oh," Michelle said, visibly disappointed. 

Eggsy fought back a sigh. It was like this every year. Rather than talk with him about it, she magically got rid of her distaste for Christmas when Dean and Daisy came into her life, and she expected the same of him. They hardly ever talked about Lee. It had been years since he'd heard her say his name. 

"But you're coming over, aren't you? Christmas Day?” Michelle pressed. “I know Daisy is very excited about the present she's gotten you."

"I'll be here, yeah. Sometime in the afternoon. I think Harry's got a business trip though, if you were expecting him to come." 

Harry hadn't exactly said what he had planned on doing. The last Eggsy had heard it was still a possibility, but he had delegated that decision entirely up to Harry, and honestly did not know what he would do. He had professed to not needing him the day of, that he could go do whatever it was Kingsman wanted of him, but who could say if Harry had requested time away or not? Either way, Eggsy would get by.

"Oh,” Michelle said again, frowning into the dough that she was now rolling out on the board. "I haven't seen him for months, and you barely mention him. If I hadn't been at the wedding myself, I'd say you were making him up," she huffed, aggressively rolling the dough flat.

"He's a busy man," Eggsy shrugged, sitting upright and rubbing his neck. "The job's pretty demanding, he can't help it."

"Well," Michelle blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, looking up at Eggsy as the tenseness in her shoulders drained away. "I do hope you'll come. I miss you around the house," she smiled, looking at him rather fondly. "And I hope you smile a bit more this year."

"I'll do what I can, mum." Eggsy smiled back at her. Every year, he promised to try. That was, after all, the best he could do.

The rest of his time there was spent in the usual fashion, chatting with his mother about this and that, and keeping her company while Daisy played. Once the cookies were done, Daisy climbed back onto his lap and grabbed at the icing, happily ruining a cookie by slathering icing and sprinkles all over it. He stayed long enough for the decoration, helping his mother get them all done, and politely refusing her offer of sending a few home with him. He hugged her warmly at the door and promised to see her on Christmas, knelt down and kissed Daisy's face until she squirmed to get away, and left.

It was very cold now, and Eggsy stubbornly fought the need to get a winter coat and continued to wear his old jersey jacket and hat, leaving his cheeks, ears, nose, and lips very pink by the time he went as far as the front door to the car. He returned home that night by ten o'clock, still earlier from Harry's usual arrival time, when he was uninjured at least.

And Harry was uninjured, now. The gunshot wound had healed up, and he hadn't sustained any other major injuries since then. It was almost impressive just how many he'd gotten, now Eggsy had time to muse on it. If he were honest with himself, he was a little concerned every day until Harry got home, wondering in the very back of his mind if he'd come back with some new and awful injury. Eggsy never said anything about it -- it would accomplish nothing -- but by now he considered them friends, and he did worry about Harry being constantly in a very dangerous, and to Eggsy, unknowable, line of work.

Eggsy had been practicing cooking every so often, using the lessons Harry had taught him and trying new things with said knowledge. That night, as he walked through the door at 10:08, he was hungry. Rather than grabbing a quick snack, Eggsy decided to actually try something on his own. He hunted down and pulled out the dated cookbooks Harry had, frowning as he flipped through them. The names of all the dishes sounded similar and without pictures to guide him, he felt far too little confidence in his abilities to pull them off. Searching a few things on his phone led him to an American recipe that looked quite good, and he seemed to have all the ingredients for. 

As Eggsy pummeled the steak with the meat tenderizer, he started wondering if he should forewarn Harry of his cooking attempts, but then decided better of it. Harry could stumble onto this success or failure on his own.

-

Getting excited for the holidays was not something Harry did, and the fact that he was married did little to change that, especially given his husband's feelings on the matter. He never asked why it was that the holiday spirits that lightened other people's moods only served to dampen Eggsy’s, still sticking to the line of thinking that if Eggsy wanted to tell him what was going on, he would do so. Secretly, he rather hoped he would. Their relationship still wasn't ideal, to be sure, but he'd considered it better at the very least.

The days following their first conversation about Christmas had fallen back into the old awkwardness, but it had mostly been washed away in a flood of determination on both their parts. Conversations might have been stilted, but they still touched each other, light little things that nevertheless made a difference. 

Still, Harry suspected that Eggsy wasn't telling him anything because he didn't trust him. Perfectly fair, given how many lies he'd been fed since the very start. The big reveal of Kingsman didn't count for much, seeing as it hadn’t been Harry's choice to tell him, but instead a forced hand.

Now that that was out, however, Harry had refrained from lying to Eggsy. He told him what he could about his missions and his Kingsman schedule. The finer points had to be omitted, but they were unimportant. It helped a bit that Eggsy seemed to worry about him. He'd come home some nights to find Eggsy sprawled out on the sofa in what had been an obvious attempt to stay awake until he'd returned, and more than once he'd found leftovers waiting for him in the fridge with a small note. It convinced him that Eggsy cared at least a little whether or not he made it home.

Christmas drew ever nearer and they continued to dance around the subject, oftentimes avoiding it altogether. Harry had less and less time at home, as psychopaths tended to ramp up their plots around the holidays. Massive crowds were good targets and parties and occasions drew many people together. What little time Harry got to spend at home was normally spent catching up on the rest he didn't get.

Still, he couldn't complain, not really. Not when his role was such an important one. It didn't exactly help in growing the small relationship he'd started to cultivate with Eggsy, but it also didn't give him much of a chance to harm it. Harry didn't own any decorations (he'd been wrong about the tree; he’d checked both the attic and the basement and came up empty) and he didn't go out of his way to buy any. Their house remained in the same state it had always been in, the only change the snow that occasionally fell on the street outside. Harry didn't much like the snow, especially not this year. He could feel a cold developing, and he simply did not have the time for it. Getting sick was the last thing on his very long list of things to do, so he took every opportunity to sleep that he could in an effort to ward it off. 

Harry didn't know much of Eggsy's plans during that time, but he did notice that he went at least once a week to his mother's to see both her and Daisy. He never seemed to be in the best of moods after those visits, despite getting to spend time with his family. Truthfully, Harry didn't know if he would have gone even if he had the time. He didn't know Michelle, he wasn't terribly fond of children, and things could very easily get awkward when she saw just how little like a married couple he and Eggsy acted.

Sighing, Harry made his way home for the night, blessedly early. Lancelot and Tristan's mission had gone better than expected, and Harry had been in and out far faster than normal. It would be good to catch up on sleep and, hopefully, drive away the last dredges of the threatening cold. 

He walked as straight and sure as he had before getting shot, having healed up completely from the injury. The first time he'd put the glasses on after escaping the medical bay had earned him a nearly 45 minute lecture about how he should listen to the medical professionals from Merlin, and the first time he'd returned to Kingsman headquarters had seen him receiving another from the head doctor. He'd snapped something back about how he was fine now, wasn't he? and leaving off might be a good idea, to the chagrin of both. Still, neither of them could deny that he seemed good as new, slipping back into action as seamlessly as if he'd never been taken out of it.

When Harry opened the door, it was to the sound of clanking in the kitchen, a sure sign that either Eggsy was up and cooking or there was some incompetent burglar in the house. Harry suspected the first option, but prepared for the second. One never knew, after all. 

Rounding the corner, all tension flowed out of his muscles as his suspicions were confirmed. "What has that poor steak ever done to you?" Harry asked, unwinding his scarf from around his neck and shrugging his coat off as well.

The loud banging of the utensil on the fleshy meat completely drowned out the sound of the door opening and Harry's footsteps approaching. Since Eggsy hadn't expected him, he startled a bit, enough for his hand to freeze in midair as he looked up, and continued on with a light smirk. "He was talking shit," he said as though that explained it all.

"And quite a bit of it, from the looks of it," Harry said lightly, hanging up his jacket before returning to the kitchen. "What are you making?" he asked, letting his fingers brush briefly against the back of Eggsy’s neck as he passed by him on the way to the fridge where he pulled out two beers.

Eggsy hummed reflexively as he was touched, refraining from tenderizing while they were speaking. And besides, this piece was just about done he found as he checked it. "You'll have to wait and see," he smiled cryptically, glancing over at his phone to make sure it was locked.

Groaning, Harry popped the caps on both the bottles, setting one down near Eggsy. "You know I'm not fond of surprises, don't you?"

Eggsy nodded his thanks, and set the piece of steak off to the side after sprinkling it with salt and pepper on all sides. "Hey, it's my turn to make the cooking decision. You be nice or you get nothing," he snickered. Honestly if Harry disliked it, Eggsy would eat it all anyway. He was fairly certain he'd like it. 

Still grumbling, Harry slipped an arm around Eggsy's waist from behind, his beer abandoned on the counter. "Anything I can do to help?"

Absently, Eggsy touched Harry's arm as he thought, considering the offer. "Actually, yeah," he decided, giving him a half-grin over his shoulder. "I need you to whisk flour and milk for the sauce that I would absolutely burn."

Though he would be slightly disappointed when Harry pulled away from him; after being with his family earlier, with all that frustration and bitterness, the warmth and touch was rather comforting.

"Mmm, flour and milk, got it," Harry murmured, making no move to pull away. He leaned forwards instead, resting his chin on Eggsy's shoulder and closing his eyes momentarily, mentally flicking through recipes in an attempt to figure out what Eggsy was making.

Eggsy was secretly pleased, straightening up his natural slumping posture a little. He even smiled a half smile as he worked, knowing Harry was probably trying to see what he was doing. Eggsy had no idea if he would even recognize it. Knowing Harry like he did, it was a toss up. Harry still surprised him all the time.

Trying not to jostle the head on his shoulder, Eggsy tossed the steak he'd been pounding, and the two others he had done before Harry had gotten home, in flour. As soon as they were tossed, he started to dip them into the beaten egg mixture at his side, humming low in his throat.

Sighing, Harry lifted his head from his shoulder. "I suppose I should actually be useful," he said, dropping a quick kiss on Eggsy's cheek before pulling away completely. He mixed up the flour and the milk as he'd been asked.

Eggsy only chuckled to himself. Harry must not get it quite yet. All well and good, really. He continued to prep the steaks as he remembered the recipe, silent save the quiet melody he was still humming.

After a few more minutes, he moved over to the burner beside Harry to start cooking up the steaks. "Are you staying up for a little bit tonight?" Eggsy asked, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. Harry had tended to be busier with work that past month and primarily slept when he did get home, not that Eggsy blamed him. 

But they should probably talk. Michelle was getting rather insistent, and Eggsy figured he should at least know the answers to her questions about Harry, even if he ended up lying.

Harry looked up from the sauce he was stirring, glancing over at Eggsy. "Do you want me to?" 

"If it won't kill you," Eggsy said nonchalantly, sizzling the steak and looking down at what he was doing rather than Harry.

Smiling wryly, Harry shook his head. "It won't kill me. I might as well stay up and eat, at the very least," he said, giving the sauce a stir.

"Thanks.” Eggsy smiled and grabbed the beer that Harry had gotten him a few minutes ago. The background stress was getting to Eggsy; he was starting to cling on to the human contact a little more. Sort of bad timing for the amount that Harry was gone, though there wasn't anything that could be done about that really. A few minutes here and there was all Eggsy could ask for.

Harry just shrugged one shoulder and reached for his beer, taking an appreciative swig of it. Eggsy seemed to be responding more to his touches these days, and Harry suspected he took comfort in them. He wasn't finding them nearly as awkward as they’d used to be, either, so he let their shoulders brush together slightly as they both stood at the stove. 

The actual cooking didn't take too long; soon the steaks were golden brown and felt tender enough to be done. 

Eggsy was a little anxious about it as he couldn't see if it was red at its center, or pink, or overdone, but he was willing to take the risk. "Just salt and pepper that and we're done," he said at the tail end of a sigh, reaching for plates and appropriate cutlery with one hand, still holding onto the beer with the other. 

Obediently, Harry grabbed the salt and pepper, adding a pinch of both to each steak before switching off the sauce and drizzling it over as well. He set his beer down at the table before returning for his plate, carrying it back with him and sinking into his chair with a sigh. 

Eggsy sat down beside him, slumping in his chair and taking another gulp before he even turned to his food. He was hesitant to bring anything up, not really wanting to discuss Christmas much, but knowing this was basically his only window what with Harry being gone so often.

Harry cut off a small piece of his steak, examining it with mock wariness before taking an over cautious bite. "This is actually quite good," he said after he'd swallowed it. "You're learning." 

Slowly, Eggsy's face lit up in a grin, quite pleased to hear it. "Good to know some stuff's sinking in," he smirked in return, bravely cutting off a piece of his own steak.

"Was there a reason you asked if I was staying up?" Harry asked a moment later as he reached for his beer.

"Yes." Eggsy took an extra moment to gather his thoughts, worrying his lip. "I was with mum today. Was mostly just wondering what you'd decided for next week. Don't matter one way or the other, I just need to know if I'm lying to her or not," he said with a weak twitch of his lips.

It suddenly struck Harry that Christmas was only a week away. That would explain why Eggsy had been so keen so lean into him earlier. Harry didn’t mention it, just lifted one eyebrow. "What exactly have you been telling her?" he asked. 

"That you're off on a business trip," Eggsy said with a shrug, poking at his food. "She kept trying to invite you over, so it seemed safest. I gotta go regardless, so." Another shrug.

Harry shifted a bit in his seat, taking another sip of his beer so he could avoid answering for a bit longer. "I do have a mission scheduled for that day, yes," he finally replied. 

Eggsy nodded, dropping the fork and taking a drink of his own beer as well. Just having an answer was nice, taking some of the anxiety of the unknown away. As for the actual day, he didn't know how he felt. He had a place to get away, at least, he didn't have to stay the whole day in his mother's flat. But he’d be coming back to an empty house, and Eggsy wasn't sure if that was a good thing. "Yeah, good," he said rather absently, popping another bite of steak in his mouth to excuse the lack of anything else to say.

"With the amount of times I've skipped out on seeing your mother, it's a wonder she hasn't marched over here to question our marital status," Harry said lightly, trying to ease the mood a little. 

Eggsy very nearly choked, holding off on laughing until he swallowed. "She actually mentioned that if she weren't at the wedding she would’ve thought I was making you up. You sure you ain't a figment of my imagination or something?" It was as good of a tease as he could manage at the moment. He didn't hold it against him by any means, as Harry really had no reason to see his family.

Harry reached a hand up to his own face, touching his fingertips to his cheek. "Yes, I'm fairly sure I'm real. At least, my hand isn't phasing through my face," he said. 

"What a relief," Eggsy said seriously. "I'll let her know the good news. But just to be sure..." He scooted his chair a little closer to Harry's and reached out to gently touch his other cheek. "Yep. You’re real, sure enough."

Harry didn't make any move to pull away from Eggsy's touch, just blinked slowly over at him with a soft smile. "It's quite a relief for me, too. I think it would be a bit shocking to find out I wasn’t real after all these years." 

Eggsy dropped his hand after a moment, but he didn't scoot his chair away again. While he knew Harry wasn't terribly fond of contact, he still was sort of needing it. "Would've made your accomplishments that much more impressive, though," he said with a lopsided grin.

"Technically, they would have been your accomplishments. Which would be quite a feat, given that you would have a lot of them already under your belt by the time you were born," Harry teased, noting the way Eggsy didn't pull away and resolving to be a bit more tactile than usual that night. 

"You're right, that'd make me pretty great,” Eggsy said with his smirking smile still in place, draining the last of his beer with a pleasant sigh. 

After another moment of just being, Eggsy stood, grabbing his plate to take it away and get cleaning. This particular meal wasn't very dish intensive, but it was rather messy. He had a bit of cleaning to get done.

Harry finished off his steak, abandoning his beer to follow Eggsy to the sink. "I happen to think you're pretty great already," he murmured, setting his dishes down on the counter and slipping an arm around his waist from behind again. There was no sauce to be made this time, so he didn't have to peel away as quickly. 

The warmth and pressure of another body really was nice, and Eggsy’s eyes closed briefly to simply appreciate it. He really was grateful that Harry seemed to be picking up on the needs he had without having to risk the awkwardness of asking. Eggsy smiled to himself as he started washing the plates, shaking his head. "Not  _ quite  _  that great, I'm afraid. Close, though."

"Mmm, close enough for me," Harry said softly, pressing his lips to the corner of Eggsy's jaw, right below his ear. Eggsy was always so soft and pliant; he'd never met another person who melted under his touch quite the way Eggsy did, even on honeypot missions.  

Eggsy could only smirk to himself, rather amused at how easily touch calmed him. It always did; it was how he found comfort. From a hand on his shoulder to a rough fuck, he always benefited from it. The movement of his hands paused as the gentle kiss was pressed, his head automatically tilting as though asking for more of them.

Harry's fingers splayed out a bit, spreading out over Eggsy's stomach. Chuckling softly in amusement at Eggsy's obvious ploy for more kisses, Harry obliged, pressing another one to the shell of his ear and continuing on down his neck slowly. 

Actually, Eggsy was surprised that Harry did it. He was more anticipating Harry’s pulling away, as for as much as Eggsy liked physical contact, Harry seemed to dislike it just as much. Eggsy was even more grateful, and he felt a good degree better than he had when he’d arrived back home. While his stomach muscles automatically contracted under Harry’s hand, he wasn't asking for more, just happy to soak up the warmth of his hand and the softness of his lips as he cleaned with a vague smile.

The tensing of Eggsy's abdomen had Harry’s hands sliding down just slightly, fingertips edging past the waistband of his pants, stopping just inside the hem. He reached the junction of Eggsy’s neck and shoulder, skimmed his lips lightly back up the length of his neck. "Have you been feeling alright lately, Eggsy?" he asked, voice soft given how close his mouth was to his ear. 

The shiver that ran down Eggsy’s spine was entirely physiological, a natural reaction to hands on him and a soft voice and warm breath close to his ear. That was all, that's all it was. His lips twitched downward at the question, hands pausing and setting the dish down in the sink. He shouldn't lie, and he knew that he shouldn't, especially as the answer was so evident. But what could he say? "... Just this time of year. Ain't a big deal." Eggsy shrugged the shoulder Harry wasn't right beside.

Harry didn't miss the shiver that ran down Eggsy's spine, and he couldn't quite keep back the smirk that formed because of it. But that melted away at Eggsy's reply. Harry pressed his lips back to his neck, right over his pulse. "If there's anything I can do, tell me," he said, lips brushing against his skin with each word.

"This is enough," Eggsy sighed rather happily, his head tilting backward as his muscles relaxed. "And thanks for it. I'm sorry, I know you don’t like doing it much," he added, one of his (slightly damp) hands reaching for and patting Harry's hand on his stomach.

Harry shook his head slowly, pulling it clear of Eggsy's shoulder. "It wasn't that I didn't like it. I just wasn't used to it. Most of my training was meant to keep people from touching me; I had to unlearn that a bit," he explained, thumb stroking across the soft skin of Eggsy's stomach. 

It may have been a poor manipulation tactic, but Eggsy needed to hear specifically that that was the reason. He had had a feeling ever since he’d reanalyzed the bed endeavor after learning of Kingsman, that much like himself, Harry was conditioned to expect hands meant incoming pain. He had fought to only associate the knee-jerk reaction with the hands violently on him, which he supposed is where they differed. 

When Eggsy did get the answer he wanted, his lips twitched. Maybe there was hope for this sort of thing all the time. He would like that. "Tell that to the me of a few months ago," he snorted, his head back and tilted toward him, stomach muscles tightening again, intentionally this time.

"If I could," Harry said, fingers slipping slightly further down Eggsy's stomach, tips just brushing against the waistband of his boxers, "I would." He should probably stop, he thought. Stop teasing him, stop touching him, back away and get some distance between them. Eggsy was a bit vulnerable at the moment, it seemed, and it wasn't his fault he was craving touch. It was, however, Harry's fault he was touching him. But he found himself rather liking the warmth of Eggsy's body against his and was more than a little reluctant to pull away. 

Eggsy's heartbeat stuttered as Harry's hand fell even further, touching his boxers which was as close to a sexual touch as they'd had... ever, he thought. The alarm bells in his own head started to go off, preparing himself for when Harry would pull back, not getting what turned out to be his hopes up. Because damn, something like that would be just what Eggsy needed right now. In lieu of a response, he just turned his head, going for a kiss.

Harry had just enough time to remind himself that this was a bad idea before Eggsy was tilting his head towards him, intentions unquestionably clear. Telling the little voice in his head to shut up was entirely too easy, and he moved to kiss him back, letting out a slight sigh as their lips met. 

Harry's kissing him back was like a small victory, a little 'yes' that gave Eggsy permission and confidence and some amount of security. The angle was a little awkward, but now he had his lips, he wasn't letting them go, kissing slow but with more heat than their usual lingering kiss, if something so rare could even be called 'usual.' The hand that had hovered around Harry's by his stomach wrapped around Harry's wrist, holding on but not tugging here nor there.

There was something slightly different in their kiss this time, something that hadn't been present in any of their previous ones, few as those had been. If he kept on like this, he was going to have to follow through, Harry knew that much. However far Eggsy wanted to take it, that was how far he'd have to go. It wouldn't be fair to work him up like this and leave him hanging out of some sense of insecurity or sudden stab of conscience. The hand that wasn't restrained by Eggsy's edged down a little further, not into his boxers, but over them. 

Eggsy was hungry, wanting everything in that moment, wanting the hands on his hips to slide into his boxers and touch him and grope him and make him feel needed and wanted and alive. His head was swimming, clouded, and all he could think about was how he wanted more from him, taking advantage of the one wish he'd had that night -- lack of rational thought. 

As they drew out their kiss, Eggsy licked his lips in a demand rather than a question, more insistent than right before their wedding, the only time he had ever done this before. 

Harry wasn't keen on denying Eggsy anything in that moment; his lips parted in response to the tongue sliding over them, head moving forward a bit to make the angle slightly less awkward for him. His wandering hand found its way ever lower until his palm was sliding over Eggsy’s cock, only the thin fabric of his underwear separating them. 

Eggsy couldn't help it even if be wanted to, the small moan reverberating between their lips as his hips tilted upwards to push his half-hard cock into Harry’s hand, his tongue urgently seeking Harry's and rubbing against his. This was exactly what he needed, and he thanked his lucky stars Harry played along, even with the angle and the odd place right in front of the kitchen sink. 

Harry swallowed down the moan, the taste of Eggsy flooding over him as their tongues slid together. The faint traces of alcohol he caught could very well explain the canting of Eggsy’s hips, the eagerness with which he was pressing against Harry's hand. But it would be cruel to leave him with nothing and slowly, teasing, Harry ran his hand down Eggsy's length, his other arm breaking free of his weak grip to encircle him around his waist, pressing him against him.

Having nothing else to do, Eggsy’s free hand gripped onto the counter for support and something to tightly hold onto as he kissed Harry like he'd never get another, savoring the taste of steak and beer and lust starting to weigh on his tongue. Though as he felt the hard body pressing at his back and the hand tracing the length of his rapidly hardening cock through his boxers, there was a brief moment of hesitation, of mild guilt for encouraging and pushing this uncertain relationship into this territory. Then, as he rolled his hips back into Harry's, his hand gripped the counter for leverage, and his wedding ring bit into his finger. It hit Eggsy again that yes, they were married. This was all fine and expected and should have been happening for weeks now. How funny how things worked out.

The combination of Eggsy's tongue in his mouth and his hips rolling against him dragged a ragged, muffled moan from Harry, the arm around Eggsy’s waist tightening slightly. Thus assured that he wasn't doing anything his husband wasn't expecting (or even demanding), he stroked him lazily a couple more times through the fabric, letting his hand linger there on the last, the heat of his palm soaking through. Then Harry’s hand was gone, returning to his waist, fingers sneaking past the elastic waistband, skin to skin. 

It was becoming almost difficult to breathe, being lip locked for so long, and while Eggsy didn't want to stop, he couldn't keep going either. Lightly panting, he broke away from Harry, letting his head loll backwards, his hat falling away without his notice or concern. A quiet 'shit' escaped him as he felt Harry's warm, warm fingers slip past his waistband. A shot of nerves, anxiety, and excitement shot through him as his hand danced closer, and he willed him to touch him, his cock twitching in anticipation in his pants.

Harry's lungs thanked him when he pulled in his first actual breath since Eggsy had started kissing him. He couldn't help the little smirk that played over his lips at the muttered expletive, unsure if Eggsy could even see it given the position his head was in. While teasing him would have been fun, Harry suspected neither of them really had the patience at that moment, and he didn't stop his hand, let it glide right down to Eggsy’s waiting cock, long fingers wrapping around it. 

Eggsy’s eyes slid closed as soon as he felt Harry's hand wrap around him, relishing being touched by someone other than his own hands for the first time in many months. A grin played on his lips as he tilted his head into Harry's neck, his back arching as he rolled his hips and pushed his arse back against Harry's crotch, playing with him as best he could while waiting for his hand to get moving.

Breath hissed sharply through Harry's teeth as he felt Eggsy move against him. He swallowed down a moan, instead focusing on moving his hand, drawing another of those half-smiles from Eggsy’s lips. Harry drew his hand down in one long, smooth stroke, bringing it back up at the same languid pace, the barest hint of pressure there. 

Harry must be doing this on purpose, finally touching him but somehow still making it not quite enough. "Harry," Eggsy groaned in mostly annoyance, far too impatient for the gentle slowness he was giving him. There was a time and a place, and it could be wonderful in the proper setting. Panting against the kitchen sink was not one of them. 

As Harry's hand slid up on him, Eggsy thrust his hips forward, fucking up into his hand, and once again rolled and swayed his arse back into him, trying to not-so-subtly encourage more from him. 

Biting back an amused chuckle at just how desperate Eggsy apparently was, Harry stopped torturing him, made his grip a little tighter, his strokes a little faster. "Not planning on being patient tonight, I see," he murmured, voice laced with barely suppressed laughter.

When Harry complied, Eggsy hummed appreciatively against his neck, grinning and cracking open his eye at the comment. "You’re actually touching me, I'll be patient next time," he chuckled back, though breathier than Harry's. 

Apparently this wasn't going to be a one time thing. Not that Harry wanted it to be, he just hadn't been entirely certain Eggsy would have the same feelings. Though, he thought, he probably should have seen that coming. It was a rare man in his twenties who would flat-out refuse a handjob. He added a bit more pressure on his next downward stroke, thumb rolling over the head of his cock. 

Eggsy made a sound somewhere between a hum and a moan, smirking and pushing his head against Harry's neck again as he playfully rolled his hips. He wasn't close yet, but he felt warm and rather happy, quite comforted in his own weird way.

Harry circled the head of his cock with his thumb before running his hand back up, continuing to stroke him, gradually quickening his pace and alternating the pressure. He couldn't help but wonder how long Eggsy had wanted something like this; his statement that he was 'actually touching him' seemed to imply that this wasn't the first time he'd thought about it. 

Eggsy’s grip on the counter tightened as Harry's hand worked on him, his smirk starting to fade away in favour of his lips parting as increasingly loud 'ah-'s were pulled from him. His hips began to twitch far less voluntarily, and the hand that wasn't grabbing the counter reached behind him to hook his fingers into the fabric of Harry's suit pants, tugging pointlessly. 

Now this, Harry decided, was a sight he could get used to. Eggsy's lips parted so prettily were giving him some rather sinful ideas, and his next stroke was slightly harder than he'd intended. It was getting easier to keep the rhythm he'd set as his palm grew slick with precum, sliding more easily over his skin. 

"Oh fuck-" Eggsy groaned at the sudden harder stroke, the coil of tension in his abdomen pulling tight at the repeated abuse. He was feeling warm, and, as he bit and sucked at his lower lip, he wanted something in his mouth. Anything would do. As the tension threatened to snap, he turned his head, mouthing at Harry's neck in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

Eggsy didn't give much warning other than the uncontrollable biological ones of his twitching and the hitching of his breath, trusting Harry to know what he was doing enough to expect it. 

This orgasm was a gentle one, washing over him rather than crashing down, pleasant waves of warmth and tingling sensations pumping through his veins as he spilled over in Harry's hand, his back arching even further and hand tightly grasping Harry’s pants as he panted and moaned a whine into his neck. "Fuck me," he grinned as it started to fade, absolutely loving the melted butter feelings even as they began to leave him.

Harry suspected Eggsy was close when he felt his mouth on his neck, tongue laving over his skin in a manner that could only be called desperate. The hitch in his breath only confirmed it, and he coaxed him through it, easing up on the pressure as Eggsy would be plenty sensitive enough already.

When it was over, he pulled his hand from Eggsy's pants, smiling softly. "Not tonight." He brought his fingers up to Eggsy's mouth, lightly tracing over his bottom lip with his thumb. 

Eggsy grinned up at him, playfully licking his fingers, his face slightly flushed as he turned around to face him. Only then did he finally let go of both him and the counter as he tucked himself away and fixed his pants properly (with a wrinkle of his nose; he'd have to change before bed). "Why you gotta ruin my fun?" he teased, smiling at Harry. That certainly did the trick as he'd hoped it would; all his annoyance and low-key dread had been drained out of him quite well. He might even be settled through the next day as well. Amazing what the right touches could do for him.

Harry tugged him forwards by the front of his shirt for another brief kiss, swiping his tongue once over Eggsy’s lips, catching a lingering taste of him. He'd get a better one someday, of that he was sure. "Was that not enough fun for you?" he chuckled against his lips, fingers trailing down the side of his neck.

Eggsy was quite content to kiss him back, his smirking smile growing in a sort of satisfaction as he felt Harry's tongue on his lips again. "'f I say no, do I get more?" Eggsy teased, his head tilting a bit as one of his hands lifted to touch Harry's chest lightly.

Arching one eyebrow, Harry paused for a second to consider it. "That depends on what it is you want," he finally settled on.

"Does it?" Eggsy looked from his eyes to the hand on his chest, finding himself wondering what Harry looked like underneath that suit, He realized he'd never actually seen him in less than... long sleeves and pants, actually. Save that time with the gunshot wound, but he had been a little distracted, it hardly counted.

"Yes," Harry said, glancing down at the hand Eggsy had placed on his chest and inclining his head towards it. "It does."

A rather mischievous grin started to slowly spread across Eggsy’s face, his eyes flitting up to Harry’s again. "Well," he started, his hands sliding over to touch his tie and begin to tug it loose. "What if I want to repay you?" His tongue stuck out to wet his bottom lip suggestively, raising his eyebrows as though waiting for Harry to tell him no.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as he felt the knot of his tie come undone as Eggsy worked at it. "You don't have to repay me, Eggsy," he sighed, reaching up to grab his wrist. "That wasn't why I did it." 

At the shift in mood, Eggsy rolled his eyes, letting his hands stop. "You did it because obviously I needed some physical contact, and my body responded, so you kept going. Lemme give you a lesson in Eggsy-language." His half-grin came back, and he leaned in closer to him, the hands that were going for his tie pressing to his chest again. "When I say I want to repay you, I mean I want to pull your clothes off and drop to my knees to give you what could be the best blowjob of your life because I want to, and for the first time, you seem inclined to let me. If it'll help, doing it will actually help me," Eggsy added with a light snicker, forgetting that Harry didn't actually know this part about him, at least not first hand.

That seemed like a pretty good summation of what had just happened, and Harry let his hand fall away from Eggsy's wrist, letting out a slight sigh. He closed his eyes until Eggsy claimed that it would actually help him as well, at which point he opened them, head tilting slightly to one side. "It will?" he asked, a touch skeptically.

Eggsy shrugged, his shoulders shaking in a silent laugh as he looked at him with one eyebrow quirked. "It  _ is  _ possible to enjoy giving head. Makes me feel good, something I'm good at. And like I said, I want to," he added, leaning up to speak barely an inch from Harry’s lips.

Harry's hands slid around Eggsy almost automatically, his hands resting lightly in the small of his back. "Mmmm, well, I suppose there isn't much point in denying you something that would make you feel good, is there?" 

"I like the way you think," Eggsy hummed, stealing another kiss from him and nipping his lower lip lightly as his hands inched toward his tie and began pulling at it again. Now that the thought was in his head, he couldn't get it out, and he wanted to pull that handsome suit off of Harry bit by bit.

Again, Harry's hands stopped him, coming up to secure his wrists. "There are better places for this than the middle of kitchen," he pointed out gently.

In the blink of an eye, Eggsy’s face went from a sly smirk to a pouting huff, sulking. " _ Fine, _ fine, lead the way, then," he said, pulling back again.

Amusement at Eggsy's impatience danced in Harry's eyes as he turned and began making his way up the stairs, tie half hanging off him at this point. He reached the top and turned to pull Eggsy to him, pressing their lips together again and pulling him along as he walked backwards into his bedroom. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he smirked, barely any space between their mouths.

Eggsy's sulk vanished when Harry started up the stairs, grinning to himself as he followed him up the stairs quite willingly. "Entirely too long," he snickered between their lips, ending with another lingering kiss. His hands pulled at Harry’s suit coat, fingers sneaking between his shirt and the coat as if trying to pry it off.

"It isn't really necessary for my shirt to be off for this," Harry pointed out as he felt Eggsy's fingers roaming over him. 

Yes, Eggsy knew about Kingsman, yes he had technically seen him with his shirt off before, but that situation had been entirely different. Harry had been covered in blood with a gaping hole in his side, and Eggsy hadn't exactly had time to stop and take in the view. 

"It isn't," Eggsy agreed, his hands falling nonetheless to start pulling at and trying to undo the buttons on his coat blindly. They'd been married for months now, it was about time he'd seen Harry naked.

Sighing, Harry forced his hands to remain by his sides. He might not want Eggsy to see him, but he didn't want to stop him either, not again. If he turned away, so be it. 

It was pretty obvious to note Harry's reluctance, something which confused Eggsy. Why? Was he trying, and failing, to hide something from him? Either way, Eggsy wasn't about to stop unless explicitly told to do so. 

He opened up the buttons of Harry’s coat and pushed it from his shoulders, starting in on the buttons of the shirt instead, popping them open slowly one by one. Though he may have wanted to distract Harry, kiss him or push his body against him or something to make him feel less on display, he couldn't keep his eyes from watching his hands, curiosity burning as his hands fell lower and lower, pushing the shirt away to get a good look at him.

The coat slid off Harry, crumpling to the floor and most likely getting wrinkled to all hell, an unseemly state for the suit jacket to be in. But Harry’s attention wasn't on that. Instead, he was more focused on Eggsy's face until he got to the last button of his shirt. Harry’s eyes fluttered closed as it joined the jacket on the floor, and he very nearly crossed his arms over his chest to keep at least some of him hidden. 

As soon as the shirt fell, Eggsy understood Harry’s reluctance. He had sort of expected it, the criss-crossing scars and markings that were indicative of the years of work and the dangers Harry had been put through. But seeing them was something else, and more than anything, Eggsy was impressed. 

Harry had been through so much, and Eggsy could only guess what the stories the scars came from would be. The gunshot wound was easily recognizable, still pink as it continued its healing, and it was only too easy to remember the hectic mess of the last time he’d seen that mark. But even so, he was equally impressed, if not more so, by how fit Harry actually was beneath all of that. It made sense, that he would need to be at the top of his game, but he had defined pecs, strong looking muscles, nothing Eggsy would have expected when he’d heard he was marrying a 52-year-old stocks businessman. A sudden wave hit him where all he wanted to do was push Harry down and touch all of it, all of him, and it became in that moment a desire for longer, for more than a quick session to get himself comforted.

Eggsy smirked as his eyes remained glued to what he could see of Harry’s body. He hooked a finger into his pants to tug by his hipbone, his other hand touching his chest and tracing down the center of his body to his abdomen. "You been hiding this from me?" Eggsy teased, touching the curve at his side above his hip.

Harry's eyes didn't open until Eggsy touched him again. The short silence between the time where his shirt fell away and Eggsy's hands were on him filled him with discomfort, and he had half expected to just hear footsteps walking away. He wasn't exactly what someone looked for in a person, he knew that much. Scars could be good-looking, but his patchwork collection of them looked more like an accident than anything else, especially his relatively fresh bullet wound. But there wasn't any sign of retreat, and he opened his eyes to find his husband staring at him with something like appreciation.

"Can you really blame me?" Harry asked wryly, not entirely reassured even with the way Eggsy’s hand was stroking over his abdomen.

"Before knowing about Kingsman it would’ve startled me, I'll give you that," Eggsy said, lips twitching and head nodding to the side as he made his own point. His hands both started touching Harry more firmly, palms pressing to his chest and sliding down again, glancing up at him. 

Harry couldn't exactly help the shudder that ran through him. He couldn't remember ever being touched quite so intimately before, and the way Eggsy was looking at him didn't help matters any. Slowly, he let out the breath he'd been holding, letting himself believe that Eggsy actually was as okay with it as he seemed. "Yes, I couldn't come up with an explanation for every single one of them," he said with a small shrug. 

Eggsy couldn't be certain, but he did feel as though Harry had been anxious, maybe nervous about showing him. He wanted to kiss and touch the contours and markings even more. "I'm sure you'd've tried," he smirked, stealing get another kiss from his lips before bending and starting to press his lips to Harry's chest while his hands touched his hips and stomach, fingers playing at his belt but not tugging it yet.

"More than likely," Harry agreed with a tight smile that melted away when Eggsy kissed him. The feeling of his mouth on his chest, grazing over the raised scar tissue (still sensitive in some cases) had Harry feeling as if he needed to brace himself on something. Any lingering nervousness was slowly being washed away in the tracks of Eggsy's fingers and lips. 

Eggsy followed Harry’s body downward, kissing firmly but carefully on his way until finally he was on his knees, his lips pressing to Harry’s stomach while he started actually working on his belt. He was trying to get himself back on track, back to the point of his doing this lest he get carried away and push it too far and fuck it up somehow. 

Harry wanted to point out that it was extremely unfair that his shirt was off while Eggsy's was still on when Eggsy sank to his knees, fingers fumbling with his belt. His breath caught in his chest, and the objection died on his lips. 

Belts were always a pain, especially when they were on someone else. And Harry, dressy as he was, of course had one of those belts with two prongs fastening it in place. Eventually, Eggsy did get it off properly. Then he was pulling open his trousers, making a point to be slow and deliberate, eyes closed as he kissed the soft skin just inside the pant-line, lips twitching up as he tugged them open and down to his upper thighs.

Now Harry understood Eggsy's earlier impatience all too well. Eggsy was going maddeningly slowly, but Harry just pressed his lips together, refusing to urge him to go faster. The sensitive skin tingled as Eggsy kissed over it, and he let out a soft sigh at the sensation, shoulders slumping forward slightly. 

Eggsy was down to only Harry’s undergarment now, and the anticipation was making his toes curl. He'd wanted to be slow and deliberate for longer than this, but it was hard to do that when he so wanted to make himself hurry up. 

One of his arms wound around Harry's thigh while his other hand indelicately made to touch, feel, and grope him through the fabric, his teeth biting down on the elastic material of the waistband, pulling and snapping it once. Eggsy looked up the ridges of his body to his face, a smirk pulling at one of the corners of his lips. "Need you to do me one favour before I start, yeah?" He leaned in and started mouthing over his cock through the fabric, the arm around his leg tightening and then falling away as he sat back on his heels and looked up at him with his head slightly tilted. "Gonna need to borrow a pillow, if you wouldn't mind."

A small jolt of anticipation ran through Harry as the heat from Eggsy's palm filtered through the fabric of his underwear. Another slight shudder ran through him when his mouth took the place of his hand, and he curled his own into loose fists to keep from tangling them in Eggsy's hair. "What do you need a pillow for?" he asked, swallowing down his groan of reluctance that he had stopped.

"Knees, love." As Harry wasn't moving away, Eggsy let himself migrate back to his crotch, (the shudders too tempting to not try and bring out again) mouthing at him once or twice before pulling back again. "Helps if you might be down on them for a bit," he clarified with a light grin.

When Eggsy pulled back again, Harry nodded, walking over closer to the bed and gathering up a pillow. He brought it back to Eggsy, offering it over to him. 

During his absence, Eggsy tugged his shirt off and up over his head, setting it down to his side. He took the pillow once it was offered and set it down to properly kneel on it, and as soon as he was near enough, he grabbed Harry’s hips to tug him closer. He'd wasted quite enough time, he felt, and without another word he began to tug down Harry’s boxer-briefs, quite done with waiting.

Harry was torn. On the one hand, he wanted to haul Eggsy up and take a minute or two to admire the way he looked without a shirt on, as he'd never had the opportunity to do so before. On the other, he was a little preoccupied with the fact that his underwear was currently being tugged down, which wasn't something he really wanted to stop. 

Keeping in line with his 'I've wasted enough time' thought, Eggsy only allowed himself the span of a second or two to get a look at Harry. It didn't matter, and he was sure he'd get another look at him at some point, all that mattered was that he had a good idea of what he was getting into. A hand wrapped confidently around the base to steady him, and his mouth opened, sinking down rather far (while it was practical, it was more effective and efficient to get him as wet as possible rather quickly; Eggsy also would be lying if he said he didn’t want to get some sort of reaction from Harry to get him started). 

Eggsy, it seemed, wasn't interested in giving Harry much time to get used to things. In a very short time, his underwear went from being on to being off, followed quickly by a hand gripping his cock and a mouth swallowing down what wasn't already being held. "Fuck," he choked out, hand flying to Eggsy's shoulder to steady himself.

There was probably some psychological thing that accounted for it, but even at the worst of times Eggsy loved the heavy, fleshy weight on his tongue. As Harry swore and grabbed his shoulder, he grinned internally, reminded of the other reasons he liked doing it. He pulled off of him again, hand stroking with a twist of his wrist at what wasn't going to fit in his mouth, and he grinned up at him, his free hand guiding one of Harry's to his hair. "And those better not be transmitting," he added with a wink before sinking down on him again, bobbing his head and pressing his tongue against him as he rapidly took in and reluctantly slid out.

It wasn't until then that Harry remembered he was still wearing his glasses. He'd turned them off in the car on the way back from Kingsman, so they weren't transmitting anything, not that it would have been the first time Merlin had seen Harry getting sucked off. Someone had to monitor the honeypots, after all. He felt his hand being moved from Eggsy's shoulder to his hair, threaded his fingers in of his own accord. "They, ah, they aren't," he managed to say, voice slightly breathy. 

Eggsy’s only response was a low hum around him. After all, he was only teasing; he trusted Harry to not forget he was recording something like this. Or at the very least warn him; he honestly wasn't certain that would be a big deal to him. Interesting. 

Eggsy's eyes closed as he bobbed and sucked, wetting and hollowing his cheeks. He was still performing the usual routine, what he knew felt good. Although he  _ was _ starting to get curious what Harry's quirks would be, what he, specifically, would like. 

As Eggsy continued, Harry's grip tightened slightly, tugging gently on the hair he had in his grasp. His head tipped back a bit as well, eyes fluttering closed and breath coming more in gasps than anything else. 

For every gasp he gave, Eggsy wanted to get more from him, draw out more increasingly loud and desperate noises. He couldn't help it; if he had an opportunity to try and properly wreck this very put together and honestly very handsome man, he was going to do it. 

Eggsy took him in deeper, very nearly to the back of his throat, fighting the tears that started to prickle his eyes by suppressing the gag reflex he was still trying to get rid of, one of his hands splaying on his stomach and feeling the muscles there with firm fingertips.

Harry's eyes snapped open at that, and he let out a guttural moan, fingers flexing, scraping slightly against Eggsy's scalp. He wasn't thinking so much anymore, at least not about anything that wasn't how good Eggsy's mouth felt around him. His head fell forward, and he tugged at his hair weakly. "Eggsy..." he panted, "if you don't stop, I'm gonna..." 

Well that was the idea, wasn't it? Rather than pull off of him, stroke him until he came, Eggsy redoubled his efforts, bobbing and sucking as best he knew how, his eyes opening and looking up at him with his cock deep in his mouth. His own was twitching and hardening in his pants again, despite having come himself not long ago. When he said he genuinely enjoyed it, he genuinely enjoyed it.

Harry glanced down just in time to see Eggsy looking back up at him, lips stretched wide around his cock and the small curl of warmth that had been pooling in his stomach burst. He let out a half-choked cry that kind of sounded like Eggsy's name as he came, tried to pull Eggsy off him. 

Eggsy, however, refused to pull off him, both his hands grasping Harry's hips as he came. He hummed around him, pulling off him only as he tasted the last of the salty liquid. Swallowing, he pulled away, sitting back on his heels as he wiped away the wetness on his lips with the back of his hand, looking up at him with a rather self-satisfied smirk.

Once he was released, Harry slumped down onto the bed, chest heaving for air. He started reaching for his pyjamas, not seeing any need to hang around naked. That reminded him that he hadn't yet had a chance to truly appreciate Eggsy's half-dressed state, and he propped himself up on his elbows to run his eyes appreciatively over his chest.

Eggsy stood, tossing the pillow back up on the bed and picking up his shirt to drape over one of his shoulders. He stood by the bed, shifting his weight to one leg and looking at Harry with his eyebrows slightly raised. "Can I help you?" he asked rather facetiously, trying not to smile and failing.

"Come here," Harry said, jerking his head. He balanced his weight on one arm, reaching out for Eggsy with the other.

Almost without any hesitation, Eggsy did as he was asked, flopping down beside him on the bed.

Harry pulled his pyjama bottoms on, arching his hips off the bed to secure them around his waist. He lay back down beside Eggsy and glanced over at him. "If you wanted to go back to your own bedroom I wouldn't blame you," he said, "but I would like to sleep with you again."

Eggsy’s eyebrows raised in genuine surprise; he hadn't expected Harry to ask for that any time soon. And he was quite better now, he didn't really  _ need  _ much physical affection or attention after all of that. But as he considered it, maybe it wouldn't be the worst idea. It would probably go better this time, now that he knew about Kingsman and Harry seemed to trust him a bit more... Why not?

Eggsy stretched a bit and folded one arm behind his head, giving a half-smile as he nodded. "Yeah, sure. Good a time as any to try that again, yeah?"

"Good," Harry sighed, nodding. His eyes closed and he half-drifted off, worn out by his already exhausted state and his climax. He folded his arms over his chest, taking in a deep breath.

Eggsy relaxed into the bed, far less tense than he had been the last time. He was less anxious than the last time too, and a good deal lazier, so he shimmied out of his jeans and let them fall to the floor, leaving him in only his boxers. Yawning, he contentedly let his muscles relax into Harry's bed, his eyes slowly sliding shut.


	15. A Bath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas and happy holidays~

It didn't take long for Harry to actually fall asleep, relaxed and satisfied as he was. His breaths deepened and his hands slid off his chest to his sides as he slept. 

It took longer for Eggsy to sleep, being worked up from Harry and not having done much strenuous activity that day besides. 

He rolled on his side once Harry seemed to have really, truly fallen asleep, taking the opportunity to look at his face and his uncovered chest. Obviously, he didn't dare move more than necessary, let alone touch him, as he was feeling the urge to do, knowing that that would almost certainly wake him up. So it was with restraint that Eggsy didn't reach to touch his hair or the planes of his chest, which was rather sad as he knew well that the next opportunity to do so may not be for some time. 

Harry really was something else. A fucking spy, and he had more than his share of marks to prove it. Eggsy's lips twitched, and he folded his arms beneath his pillow after turning out the light and lying facing away from Harry, trying to keep his body together. He remembered waking up spooning Harry last time, and he couldn't be certain he wouldn't accidentally do it again.

Like the last time they'd shared a bed, Harry woke up in the middle of the night, opening his eyes to darkness and glancing over at the clock to find that it was the very small hours of the morning. Unlike the last time, however, he didn't startle at finding a shape beside him when he rolled over. Being in his right mind this time and not a nightmare-induced panic, he remembered that it was Eggsy. Harry’s eyes traced over the faint shape of his body just visible in the dim moonlight filtering in through the window. 

Gradually, his eyes adjusted better to the dark, and he could make out the gentle rise and fall of Eggsy’s shoulders as he slept. Almost unconsciously, he matched his breathing to it and slipped back into asleep, that time for the rest of the night. 

Eggsy didn't sleep too heavily, but not too lightly either. So while he wasn't stirred by movement in the bed much, nor by the moonlight hitting his eyelids, he probably would be by Harry's getting ready for work in the morning, a thought that hadn't occurred to him when he’d agreed to sleep there. 

As the night wore on, he inched over closer to Harry and his body heat, his back to him rather than clinging onto him this time, as though sleep-Eggsy had learned his lesson to be slightly more wary of doing his usual sleep-time antics. And, mercifully, his dreams that night were filled with notions like trying to land atop the giant Ferris wheel from jumping out of a plane -- much less dangerous territory than a wet dream. The sandman was good to Eggsy that night, it seemed.

Harry’s alarm went off, as usual, at 5 in the morning. Harry sat up and turned it off as quickly as he could, though he guessed it was probably a lost cause to think Eggsy had just slept through it. 

When the blaring sound went off behind him, Eggsy's eyes shut tighter in self defense as he tried to cling to sleep pointlessly. He grumbled nonsense, rolling over onto his stomach to bury his face in a pillow. "Harryyyyy..." he huffed.

"Sorry, sorry," Harry muttered, making sure it was turned completely off and not just on snooze. "Go back to sleep, I'll try and be quiet." He rolled off the mattress and started getting ready for work, changing in his closet with the door closed to keep the noise level down. 

Eggsy considered it, rolling around and trying to fall back asleep. But if Harry was getting up, he might as well, too, for the moment. It wasn’t like there was anything that would stop him from going back to sleep in a little bit, and he wanted the chance to say goodbye while he had it. 

While Harry changed, Eggsy rolled and sat upright in the bed, flicking on the light and rubbing at his face as he woke himself up, his hair flat on one side and sticking up rather comically on the other. Sleep lines dominated the entire left side of his face and arm.

Harry emerged dressed smartly in his usual three-piece, hair as yet untamed and curly from sleep. He paused when he saw Eggsy, one side of his mouth quirking up in a smile. "Whoever coined the phrase 'beauty sleep' obviously never met you," he smirked, crossing the room towards his bathroom.

"Oi, I look gorgeous right now," Eggsy countered, slowly sliding out of the bed to grope about for his pants and shirt, clearly far more sleepy and ruffled up than Harry. 

Retrieving Eggsy's shirt from where it had been left in a heap on the floor, Harry handed it over to Eggsy, stopping to tilt his chin up and kiss him briefly on the lips. "Yes," he said, "you do. Even if your hair would be right at home in the ‘80s." 

Eggsy met the brief kiss with a sleepy grin, taking back the shirt and tossing it over his shoulder rather than pulling it on just yet. "I'd think especially if I'm rocking ‘80's hair." He paused, looking up at Harry and, as he was so close, took the opportunity to touch the rebellious curls of his hair with a small smile. "I'll see you downstairs," he said as he pulled his hand back again, making for the door.

Nodding, Harry headed to the bathroom to wrestle his curls into submission with a brush and hair gel. Once he'd gotten it styled into its usual look, he snatched his glasses off the nightstand and headed down the stairs. 

By that point, Eggsy was dressed, water boiling on the stove and bubbling in the coffee pot, his hair more uniformly fucked from multiple rumplings. He was feeling a nice sort of calm, a happier neutral than the past several mornings. 

"Mmm, now you've moved more into the ‘70s," Harry said lightly as he came into the kitchen. He reached out to run his fingers through Eggsy's hair before reaching up for the teabags. 

"There’s a time machine in here," Eggsy agreed seriously, leaning on the counter and watching Harry get his tea together. “The more put together you get, the further back in time I go. At this rate, I'll have a mustache and Beatles cut when you get home."

Harry gave him a nearly affronted look and turned back to steeping his tea. "I'll have you know that mustaches can be quite good-looking when on the right person."

Pausing in suspicion, Eggsy looked at Harry out of the corner of narrowed eyes. "Well, I ain't one of them. Tell me you didn't have a mustache phase. I need to hear these words."

Harry's shoulders hunched up slightly, and he dipped the teabag in with the utmost concentration. But he didn't say a single word. 

"...you didn't." Eyes still narrowed, Eggsy inched over to him, peering at his face. He tried to envision a mustache of any kind, from comically bushy to Salvador Dali to pencil, and none of it fit at all. Stubble? Okay. Side burns? He could be into that. But mustache? 

As soon as Harry noticed what Eggsy was doing, he slapped a hand over his upper lip and turned away from him. "Everybody makes bad decisions in their early twenties," he muttered defensively. 

"Not me, I'm perfect," Eggsy grinned, stepping around him to grab his coffee and start fixing it up. "And you know I'm gonna go looking for pictures as soon as you leave, yeah?" 

"You can look as long as you like, I had them all burned," Harry stated primly. He reluctantly had to drop his hand away from his face in order to actually drink his tea. 

Eggsy grinned, sitting on the counter as he blew on and sipped at his drink. "You know, I might go looking for pictures anyway. I'm sure you didn't burn every photo, and I can use my imagination. What kind was it, eh? Take me back to 20-year-old Harry's bad decisions."

Rolling his eyes, Harry tipped back the last of his tea. "Much as I would  _ love  _ to stay and chat, I'm afraid one of us has to work, and I ought to be off," he said, nodding towards his watch. 

"Yeah-huh." Eggsy smirked and beckoned him over with a jerk of his head.

Harry set his mug in the sink before complying with Eggsy's request, drifting over towards him with a slightly bemused look on his face.

Taking a page out of Harry's book, Eggsy touched his chin to keep him steady and leaned in for a brief kiss, smelling the cologne and the tea mixing together. "Alright, go. I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, Eggsy," Harry said, glancing briefly down at his lips before tearing himself away and grabbing his coat on the way out the door.

As the door closed, Eggsy was pleased to find he didn't feel the same sort of loneliness he’d been feeling. He was able to clean up and spend the day well, and only when the light began to fade did he start getting more melancholic, remembering what it was that was wrong with him. That was all well and good; Harry was helping, but he wasn't magically going to make him better after one night. Only time would make it better. Time and the end of the season. Maybe it was good for Harry that he'd be on missions. Eggsy would bet he was a right pain to other people as the day drew closer.

-

Work was the usual grind at the real estate company, and Harry suffered through the day in his usual manner, albeit with a few more musings about Eggsy and how he was doing than usual. Then it was off to Kingsman where he really didn't have time to think about anything other than the mission, his focus switching to survival and successful completion rather than his husband. Things stretched out longer than he'd hoped they would, and he didn't make it back till edging on four in the morning, utterly spent.

When the day drew to its usual close, Eggsy found himself thinking of the previous night. Even disregarding fooling around -- which he had quite liked -- he was rather relieved that sleeping in the same bed had turned out okay. Better than okay; he felt rested, calm the next morning, and indeed the entire morning had been nice after. He didn't know exactly how much of that to attribute to the unique sleeping arrangements and how much to it just being coincidentally a good morning, but he thought maybe it was a good enough chance to warrant trying it again.

By 11 P.M., Eggsy made himself a proper dinner, fixing a second plate for Harry and wrapping tinfoil on the top as he left it on the counter with a note saying 'made @ 11- to put in face'. By 1 A.M., he was glancing at his phone every commercial break, debating texting someone, anyone. By 2:30, he decided Harry wasn't coming home any time soon, and Eggsy, not being used to days of only 3 to 4 hours of sleep, needed to pass out. There was some debate over sleeping on the couch to maybe catch Harry, but at this point there wasn't much he really had to say, and as the clock ticked to 2:57, he realized he'd only have time for a nap anyway before it was morning again. So he trudged up the stairs.

Eggsy hovered at the top of them however, glancing between the guest room and Harry's. He'd liked sleeping there, but he didn't know how much of it had been an offer out of confidence they could do it without killing each other, or an offer from a sleepy, post-climax Harry that had no intention of being followed up again soon. Besides, as it grew later, Harry would probably appreciate normality to keep him from being worse off in the morning. Finding an Eggsy in his bed would likely piss him off, Eggsy decided, so he returned to the room he'd made up as his own, closing the door and passing out quite quickly, without setting his morning alarms either. 

Harry entered the house as quietly as possible, knowing Eggsy would be asleep by then. He locked the door behind him, hung his coat up, and immediately made for the stairs. Food could wait till the morning; he was too tired to be hungry anyways.

Vaguely, he wondered which bed Eggsy was sleeping in, his own or Harry's. When he walked into his room to find it empty, he felt a small shot of relief that he didn't have to worry about keeping the noise level down. He shed his clothes as quickly as possible, more than ready to get the two hours of sleep left to him.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out like a light. When Harry’s alarm went off, he reluctantly peeled his eyes open, feeling even more exhausted than he had when he’d initially fallen asleep. Still, he had a job to do, and he switched it off, hauling himself out of bed.

Eggsy slept right through the morning, his body clearly needing to catch itself up on sleep. He didn't even stir until a quarter to noon, and it left him feeling very disoriented. Sleeping the day away was his least favourite thing to do, even on days where he did jack shit. 

Rolling over to check the time with a grumble, he saw one new message from his mother. 

_ You'll be over at 8 on Friday yes? We don't want to start without you. _

He groaned loudly, typing back a mechanical,  _ yes 8 it is, _ and immediately shoving a pillow on top of his face afterward. Friday. Fucking hell. Maybe he should go back to sleep, sleep through the rest of the week and then 'oh no he slept through Friday too what a tragedy oh noooo'. That would be lovely. 

Eggsy even continued to lay there, frowning at the ceiling for some time after that, only emerging once his stomach and bladder were sufficiently angry at him. A day of grumpy video games and going to bed early and most probably alone. Must be Christmas time.

For the first time in a long time, Harry nearly fell asleep on the job. It was getting harder every year to juggle both of them and still be efficient at both. He wasn't young anymore, he could admit that much. He might not be  _ old _ old, but he wasn't capable of just bouncing back from weeks of stunted sleep like he’d used to be. Much as he hated to admit it, it would be time for him to get taken off the roster for a second job soon, devote all his time to Kingsman. Some fresh new agent would be installed in his place at the real estate office, no doubt, as the business had proven so useful over the years. Still, Harry could hold out a little longer. At least, that's what he told himself as he shook himself awake and redoubled his efforts.

Harry must have looked as tired as he felt if Merlin's concerned glare as he slid him the files for his mission was any indication. 

"It's a simple one tonight," Merlin assured him. "Data retrieval. Take Lancelot as backup."

Thankfully, it turned out to be as easy as expected, and Harry and Lancelot were only out till midnight. Then it was home for some rest that he desperately needed. 

Eggsy tried to fight away the creeping unhappiness, but it wasn't working quite as he'd hoped. He’d tried playing one of his online shooter games, but he’d snapped and was generally more rude to his teammates than he ordinarily was. Sure, he would be sarcastic or teasing sometimes, but that day he was bordering on mean, having almost zero tolerance for simple mistakes people often made when they weren't experts in the game yet. 

By 11:45, he recognized he should stop, hating in the back of his mind how unfair he was being in exposing himself to other people. With a sigh, Eggsy powered down the television and sat in his seat, the back of his head resting on the couch with his face turned upward. He sat there in the relative darkness, never even turning on the light as it got dark outside, staring blankly at the ceiling. He knew he should go to bed, or at least do  _ something _ , but he felt no desire to, no urge to move at all.

Harry didn't see any lights shining through the windows when he pulled up, so he unlocked the door and slipped inside without making too much noise. When he saw the figure sitting on the couch, however, he dropped that effort. 

Skipping dinner two nights in a row was probably not a good idea, no matter how tired he might be, so Harry opened the fridge and pulled out what Eggsy had left for him the previous night. "Thank you for this," he said, turning back to glance at him. 

Eggsy looked over the couch once he heard Harry rustling about, and shrugged as he was addressed. "Yeah, no problem," he said dismissively, having entirely forgotten he’d done that.

Harry took his usual place at the table, content to eat alone but a little taken aback by the cool manner in which Eggsy addressed him. Eggsy had been in a good mood the last time he’d seen him, but that had been two days ago, and a lot could have happened since then, Harry supposed. 

After a few minutes of hanging silence, Eggsy stood and shuffled over to Harry's side, his hands in his pockets. He wasn't looking his best that day either, his eyes bloodshot from sitting in the dark with the screens going, hair a bit of a mess and hat forgotten over on the couch. It almost felt like the awkwardness they used to have, and Eggsy wasn't having any of that. 

"Hey," he said, starting over and sitting down in the seat he usually filled when they ate together, sans food of his own. Had he eaten today? He couldn’t remember. "Everything go okay yesterday? You must've gotten home fucking late as hell."

"Around four," Harry admitted with a shrug of one shoulder. "But the mission got done and that's the important thing in the end." He sighed and got his first real look at Eggsy in the light, eyes narrowing in concern. "Are  _ you  _ alright?" he asked. "You don't look so good." 

Eggsy raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised. Well, he hadn’t looked at himself lately; he probably did look like hell. "Yeah, yeah I'm alright. Nights have been weird," he shrugged, giving Harry a light smile.

Grimacing, Harry went back to picking at his food. "I'm sorry about that. You can always spend a few days at your mother's to get back into a more regular schedule," he suggested. 

Wrinkling his nose, Eggsy shook his head perhaps a little too quickly at the suggestion. "Nah. Wouldn't help much. I'm doing it to myself, and I'd just have to deal with mum getting upset over nothing." And Dean existing. And Christmas in his face. And his happy Daisy who would actually probably make his heart hurt a little bit. No, that would be a bad idea. Eggsy didn't even want to go over for Christmas itself. Here, he at least had the bitter sweetness of being alone. And lately, it was particularly bitter.

It was pretty clear that Eggsy wasn't very keen on that idea, and Harry decided not to press it. It was probably the same reason that he always seemed a touch more depressed after his visits, something they still weren't talking about. 

Harry finished off the leftovers, standing and taking his dishes over to the sink. "You will tell me if there's some way I can help, right?" 

Eggsy turned in his seat to keep Harry in his sights, his face still neutral as he responded. "Yeah, course." He still wasn't sure if he was lying. He always trudged through, preferring to ignore the problem as opposed to trying to fix it. The impromptu handjob from the other night did help, of course, though (shocking as it was) Eggsy wasn't quite in the mood. Even so, he doubted anything like that was what Harry had had in mind. Really, the most Eggsy wanted was some attention.

Harry rolled up his sleeves and started on the dishes, the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind. 

Once he'd set them off to the side to dry, he walked back over to Eggsy, gesturing for him to get up. "Come with me." 

Blinking once, Eggsy did as he was asked, standing with his hands in his pockets and looking at Harry with mild expectation, ready to follow him to... wherever he was going to lead him.

Harry turned and headed up the stairs, glancing back once to make sure Eggsy was actually following after him. He walked straight through his own bedroom to the bathroom attached to it, balancing himself on the edge of his big claw foot tub and switching on the hot water. 

Eggsy followed, his mild confusion not assuaged when they reached the bathroom. He didn't question it, but tilted his head curiously as he watched Harry turn on the water. He didn't look about at all the crazy things Harry had around the walls. He was still rather curious about the dog, but now was hardly the time.

When Harry decided the water was a suitable temperature, he plugged up the drain and stood again, moving over to Eggsy. He rested his hands lightly on Eggsy's hips, dropping a quick kiss on his lips. "I think," he said, fingers curling under the hem of Eggsy's shirt, "you need to relax."

Despite himself, Eggsy smiled when Harry pulled away from the kiss, feeling a sudden wave of affection for his husband at the gesture. A few weeks ago, Harry would have been avoiding him entirely because of a less-than-happy mood, and Eggsy was grateful for the effort. "I like that idea," he agreed.

"Let's have this off, then." Harry tugged at Eggsy's shirt, peeling it off and setting it over on the sink counter. His fingers hooked in the belt loops of Eggsy's jeans, tugging him forward a step so he could kiss him again, this one longer as he worked at Eggsy's belt, letting it fall to the floor with a soft metallic clank. 

Sighing quietly, Eggsy helped as he pulled off his shirt, content to kiss him and simply enjoy it. He really was quite a fan of how much more comfortable Harry seemed of late in terms of giving him kisses. As his belt fell away, he pulled back enough to look at Harry with a half-grin, more life in his eyes and eyebrows raised expectantly as he stood there in what was now just his jeans.

"I could be wrong," Harry said, a slight hint of amusement in his voice, "but I think one generally tends to take everything off before getting into a bath." 

"Did I say stop?" Eggsy asked with a larger grin, lifting his hands to touch Harry’s shoulders and sliding them down the suit fabric to wrap around his wrists loosely. "You were doing a fine job on your own," he hummed, guiding his hands back to the front of his pants at the button and zipper.

Smirking, Harry took the hint, popping open the button deftly and pulling his zipper down. He slid his jeans down until they were just a puddle on the floor, trapped by Eggsy's ankles.  

Carefully, Eggsy stepped out of the jeans, kicking them off to the side in the direction of the open door rather carelessly. That left him then in just his boxers. 

Eggsy did feel some degree of hesitation for this part, because although technically Harry had already touched him, he hadn't stripped right down to nothing in front of him yet. It wasn't like he had a problem with it, he was perfectly comfortable with his body and had stripped in front of people before ( he aggressively only remembered the good ones where he was enjoying himself and had chosen to do it), but since they were married and this would be the first time, Eggsy had a bit of anxiety about it. To assuage it, he raised himself up on his toes a little bit, pressing his lips to Harry's in a kiss as his fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers and tugged down.

The kiss took Harry, who had rather been looking forward to his first real look at his husband, a bit by surprise, but he didn't object. He tilted his head down a bit, letting Eggsy sink back onto flat feet, heard the faint swish of fabric as his boxers joined the rest of his clothes on the floor. He rested one hand in the small of Eggsy's back, the other running up and down his spine until he pulled away from him, letting his hands fall away and his eyes take Eggsy in. 

Eggsy’s face may have reddened slightly at being so on display, but he was smirking when Harry pulled away, posture quite relaxed after he kicked the boxers away too. "See something you like, bruv?" he teased after a beat of silence, vaguely amused. They had to do everything the unorthodox way, it seemed.

"Very much so, but I was waiting on you to get in the bath," Harry said, tilting his head in the direction of the tub. "They tend to help more once you actually get in them." 

"And here I was thinking it was just a ploy to get me naked." Eggsy shook his head sadly, eyeing the tub. "How dare you not take advantage of me." Still, he took a hesitant step forward, touching the water to make sure it wasn't going to burn him or freeze him or anything. Deigning it acceptable, he put one foot in and climbed all the way in soon thereafter.

Snorting, Harry began gathering up Eggsy's clothes, depositing them on the counter with his shirt. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a spare pillow that he dropped on the floor near the edge of the tub. "Lean your head back," he told Eggsy, kneeling down.

When Harry left, Eggsy sank down into the water, eyes closing and sighing pleasantly. It was a nice relaxer, Harry was right. When he returned, Eggsy cracked his eyes open and did as he said, tilting his head back without question.

Harry dipped his hands in the water before running them through Eggsy's hair. He reached the back of his neck, started over, the pads of his fingers brushing over his forehead. He continued threading his fingers through Eggsy's hair, nails running lightly over his scalp. "You've seemed tense lately," he remarked, voice soft.

After one go through, Eggsy’s eyes fluttered shut, and he sighed. It felt really, surprisingly good, the hands and the nails on his scalp and the hot water soaking the tenseness out of his muscles. 

"Yeah," Eggsy sighed, his lips twitching. He originally hadn't wanted to tell Harry out of lack of trust, feeling the lack of strength in their relationship enough to let him know something so personal. But now, weeks later, with Harry’s voice gentle in his ear and his hands washing the stress from him, feeling a connection to him he hadn't before, Eggsy was more tempted to share some of himself. And, being a spy and all, maybe Harry did already know. "I should’ve warned you. I get like this every Christmas. It'll be over soon, promise."

Harry shrugged, even though he knew Eggsy couldn't see him. "It's alright, Eggsy, you don't have to tell me," he said, running his hands through his hair once more. This time he didn't start back once he reached his neck, kept them running down over his shoulders, across the planes of his chest. He leaned forwards slightly so his mouth was right by Eggsy's ear. "Just relax," he breathed, voice barely more than a whisper.

Shivering despite the warm water, Eggsy smiled again. He didn't have to be told; it would be impossible for him not to relax with the bath and the hands on him and the voice near his ear. Honestly, wanted to tell Harry, he did, but it didn't feel right just yet. And he was feeling good for the first time all day, it would be a shame to ruin that. Huh. He was feeling good for the first time all day. 

Harry pulled his arms away briefly, slipping his suit jacket off and draping it over his lap before rolling up his sleeves. He returned his hands to Eggsy's chest, taking to running them down his stomach instead, stopping just short of his hipbones and gliding back up. He pressed a gentle kiss behind Eggsy's ear, another to his jaw. 

Eggsy's smile grew, and he hummed before he spoke, the muscles that would ordinarily tighten under Harry’s hands loose and relaxed. "You're being real sweet tonight," he said, his voice a little lower and slower than usual, his head turning toward the source of the kisses.

"Mmmm," Harry hummed, not wanting to lift his head up long enough to answer. He kissed a slow, lazy trail down his neck, hands sweeping down Eggsy's torso at a leisurely pace. He paused when he reached the point where his neck met his shoulder, lips still close to his skin. "Would you rather I stopped?" he murmured quietly. 

By the time he answered, Eggsy's eyes had shut once more, his breathing slow. "Absolutely not," he replied with an almost-laugh. Frankly, if he kept this up for the rest of the night, Eggsy would be more than happy.

"Thought so." Harry brushed his lips lightly over Eggsy's shoulder before sighing heavily and sitting back up, ignoring the slight twinge of protest from his muscles. His fingers went back to combing through Eggsy’s hair as he spoke. "Unfortunately, I do need to sleep tonight." 

"Shame." One of his hands lifted from the water and, conscious of how much he was dripping, reached up to touch Harry's already wet arm. "You need sleep every night. And since you're here early-ish, you should get some."

Reluctantly, Harry got to his feet, bringing the pillow up with him and tucking it under one arm. He rested the tips of his fingers on Eggsy's shoulder, glancing down at him. "Get out when you're ready." He paused in the doorway of the bathroom, half turning back. "And you can sleep with me, if you'd like." With that he was gone, tugging the door shut behind him and preparing himself for bed.

The door shut, and Eggsy took a breath, sinking down into the rapidly cooling water almost to his nose. Harry had taken pretty good care of him tonight, and unsolicited at that. Eggsy wouldn't have stopped him from quietly having dinner and then sliding into bed to grasp for some of the precious few hours of sleep he could get. Eggsy's arguably childish grudge against the season shouldn't have taken that away from him. But Harry had done more, and offered him a place in his bed besides. An offer Eggsy was happy to receive, not wanting to assume, but he'd been rather hoping he would be able to, an odd thought in and of itself for someone who'd been almost strangled 50% of the time he'd spent the night with him. 

He needed to get over himself, Eggsy decided as he stood in the tub and pulled the plug to start the water draining. He was upset, but he'd been upset for too long. It was time to grow up, stop sulking and taking it out on (not undeserving) prats online. With just a few days left to Christmas, he could get that figured out... right? 

Pulling on his boxers again, Eggsy gathered up the rest of his clothes and pushed open the door to Harry's bedroom once he was properly dry. He didn't hesitate this time, just dropped his things right beside the empty space in the bed and climbed in.

Not getting much rest the night before and staying up late for the second night in a row meant Harry was nodding off nearly as soon as he'd settled under the covers. He was pulled from the clutches of sleep by the sound of the plug being tugged up, the water swirling down the drain and the bathroom door opening soon after. The mattress shifted as Eggsy climbed in, and Harry let his eyes fall closed again, secretly pleased that he'd taken him up on his offer. He hadn't honestly been sure that would be the case. It didn't take long for him to drift back off. 

It wasn't terribly long after he nestled himself into the blankets that Eggsy was drifting off to sleep as well, despite his having plenty of rest and not really needing it. Chalk it up to the relaxation. And come morning if he realized that some time in the middle of the night he had once again rolled over and draped an arm around Harry's middle in his sleep, he would also blame relaxed sleep, his body acting with lower defenses.

When Harry felt an arm snake around him, his eyes snapped open, and he hissed in a breath through his teeth, muscles tensing. But he didn't strangle Eggsy, didn't even bolt into a sitting position, just glanced down and followed the arm to see who it was connected to. He let out the breath he'd been holding and settled back onto his pillow, eyes flicking over to the clock. Five minutes until his alarm went off. 

He didn't really want to disturb Eggsy, but he couldn't lie there until he woke or decided to move his arm. Carefully, Harry lifted it off of him, tucked it back by Eggsy's side, and reached over to flick the alarm off before it could actually sound. 

With his arm returned to his side, sleeping-Eggsy rolled onto his stomach and reburied his face into the other arm folded under his head. Without an alarm going off, he kept on sleeping, pulling the covers up around him.

Relieved that he hadn't woken Eggsy, Harry remained quiet as he snuck into the bathroom to shower and change, emerging only after he'd dried and fixed up his hair. He headed downstairs to eat and was gone moments later, headed off to work.  


	16. A Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a very happy new year

When Eggsy eventually did wake up, late again as he hadn't set his own alarm, it was to complete confusion. The sheets felt different, though that wasn't enough to really set off his mental alarms with his eyes shut. They smelled different too, a different scent than usual clinging to the pillow his face was buried in. That got him to open his eyes and really take in the very unfamiliar sight of another person's bedroom. 

Eggsy sat up, frowning as his sluggish mind tried to jump start itself and figure out where he was. Slowly, the memories came back, and he relaxed, flopping down on his face once more. Blindly, he flopped partially out of the bed to feel around for the pants he’d so carelessly discarded the night before, fishing for his phone. 10:17. How had he slept for nearly nine hours?

-

Harry, far more rested than he'd been the day before, was actually able to focus and get some work done in the real estate office. Unfortunately, as it was the holiday season, his coworkers were beginning to get chattier, wanting to know personal details about his friends (practically nonexistent) and family (too dull to be worth mentioning). The same thing happened every year, but this year there was a new set of questions to field off regarding Eggsy.

A clamor of 'how's your husband?' 'how's married life treating you?' 'you don't seem to have put on any weight; husband's cooking is that bad, huh?' were irritating, yes, but not nearly as bad as some of the other queries hurled his way by passing colleagues. 'Any kids on the way yet?' 'How many are you thinking of having?' 'Does he seem like he'll make a good father? Cause I know _ my _ husband...'

Harry was only too eager to get out of the place and head to Kingsman, where people knew better than to bother him about such trivial details.

The 23rd and Christmas Eve passed Eggsy by, with him still resolutely ignoring it while also doing better at maintaining a less shitty attitude. Not that anyone could see it. Harry was extra busy, staying out late both nights, leaving Eggsy to see him a total of just barely an hour. If Eggsy didn't see him come home, he didn't sleep in his room. Mostly out of courtesy more than anything else, feeling that if Harry were getting that little sleep, he should do so uninterrupted.

Christmas Day arrived, Eggsy's alarm blaring at 6 in the morning to start trying to get him up. He rubbed his face sleepily and threw his legs on the other side of his bed to sit up, but didn't hop up yet. The entire morning (how long was his mother thinking of keeping him, anyway?) he was going to have to have a warm smile on his face, and he knew the only way he could do that was by remembering Daisy. 

She was growing up so quickly; this year might be the first year she started actually making memories she would remember in later years, and Eggsy would be damned if he somehow tarnished it for her. But still, he wasn't at the flat yet. He could still sulk about until he had to leave.

Eggsy stood in the shower, letting the piping hot water run down his back, his eyes closed. He wished he’d never quit the Marines. Making his mother constantly hysterical wasn't something he wanted, but it really would have given him purpose, a reason to be, and some closure as to the death of his father that he just hadn't gotten. Christmas could be entirely different; his life could be entirely different. Purposeful camaraderie as opposed to meaningless days and isolation. He wrinkled his nose and turned the water off. What was done was done. They wouldn't accept him back, and there was nothing else for him. He'd have to find his meaning and closure somewhere else.

Dressing a little nicer than usual for the occasion meant tighter jeans, shoes without wings, no hat at all, and a sweater instead of his baggy jacket, knowing his photo-loving mother would appreciate it. After forcing down a far too-hot cup of coffee, Eggsy grabbed all the gifts he had bought and stowed them in the Aventador, making his way over to the flat in the snow while blasting his favourite music. He stacked all the presents in his arms and started up the stairway, finding it mercifully easy to grin when his mother opened the door with a loud “Eggsy!!'

What with dropping the gifts under the tree (Daisy was nearly vibrating with excitement), hugging his mother and scooping up Daisy, it only took a few pleas from his mother and one from his sister with her large, sad blue eyes to melt Eggsy and allow a Santa hat to be dropped on top of his head. 

“Where's Dean?” he asked his mother as they sat down on the couch, Eggsy's arm draped along the back of it behind her while Daisy flopped on the ground on all fours looking longingly at the gifts. 

Michelle waved her hands dismissively while sparing a glance to their bedroom, saying, “Oh, he said to start without him. Let’s carry on then.'

"Go ahead, sweetheart," Eggsy smiled at Daisy, nodding encouragingly to the stack of presents he had brought over mixing with the (fewer) gifts his mother had wrapped up. 

Daisy happily made a grab for the nearest one and started ripping the paper to shreds, Michelle snapping a quick photo on her phone.

Eggsy smiled a smile that wasn’t at all forced when he saw just how happy she was pulling out the toy he'd heard her say how much she wanted.

Present after present got unwrapped, a mountain of paper forming behind Daisy, and before long the little girl was running around the apartment with her toys and clothes, wanting to play with and wear everything at once. 

Eggsy laughed and scooped her up when she ran by him, plopping her into his lap. HHappy Christmas, flower,” he said, kissing her head.

“Thank you thank you,” she said happily, throwing her little arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest. 'Happy Christmas, Eggsy.” 

His insides melted as he set her back down and agreed to pull one of her toys out of the package, a smile firmly in place on his face. He couldn't help himself, not with how happy she was. It was infectious.

Leaving her to play, Eggsy pushed himself off of the couch and went to the kitchen where his mother was cracking a few eggs, making a suitable breakfast. Michelle was trying so much harder for Daisy, he saw. Festivity all over the flat, dressed in a red turtleneck and reindeer antler headband, all the gifts for Daisy wrapped quite well. He couldn't blame her for his own small Christmases being shitty. 

She had been going through the same thing he was, probably worse, they’d had no money, and he didn't exactly make it easy. In a way, maybe she was resolving to make up for it with Daisy. He was fully behind her on that one, feeling quite the same way.

"You went all out," Michelle said fondly, looking over at Eggsy once she'd noticed he'd settled himself into a chair in the kitchen. "Thank you for that."

"Course," he smiled back, pulling the hat off and rubbing at his hair. "Ain't every year you have your third Christmas."

Michelle looked quite happy, whisking away at the eggs she dropped in a bowl, and Eggsy just then remembered she hadn't opened her present. Without a word, he stood and made his way to the present mountain behind Princess Daisy (who was demanding to be called such as Eggsy had bought her the dress and tiara she had once fawned over in a shop), and grabbed the small blue gift with a silver bow she had left behind. 

Picking it up and carefully stepping around all the loose toys, Eggsy brought it to the kitchen, offering it to his mother. "Here," he said with a smile, waiting patiently as she set the bowl down and wiped the water from her hands on her apron before taking it. "Happy Christmas, mum."

Michelle took the small box with protestations of 'you didn't have to, babe' which Eggsy politely ignored. She carefully opened the paper and slid out the box. Inside was first and foremost a hand-made coupon for one 'babysitter Eggsy,' followed by gift certificates to the hair salon he knew she liked, a rather fancy spa she'd never have said she wanted to go to, and her favourite 'treat yourself' clothing store. 

Eggsy watched as her eyes grew wide, mouth falling open at all the gifts in that small box. 

She looked up at him and shook her head slowly. “Eggsy, love, you shouldn't have,” she muttered, putting everything back together in the box as carefully as though they were made of glass, not paper.

"Happy Christmas," he said again, pulling her in for a hug and nuzzling against her head once before pulling back again. "You deserve a day just for you. I'm glad I can give it to you now."

Michelle looked like she was going to cry, looking from him to the bit of Daisy she could see peeking out from the other room, and pulled him in for another, tighter hug. "Thank you, Eggsy," she sighed in his ear, squeezing him lightly. "You’ve been a life-saver. I don't know what I would do without you."

Eggsy sat back down at his seat in the kitchen, stretching and yawning through his smiles. It was nice, he found, that he didn't seem to have to fake anything so far. Granted, he didn't need it to be Christmas for him to feel happy about giving gifts to his family. 

As he looked over the table to see Daisy talking to herself and playing with the dolls he'd gotten her, he smiled, though as his gaze drifted to the long-absent tree with it's 20-year-old ornaments, his smile faltered. The snowglobes had even made a reappearance. Suddenly, he was looking back at his five-year-old Christmas, remembering the instant the twinkling lights became less warm and inviting and more cold and distant.

Shaking his head once rather violently, Eggsy brought himself back to the present. He chatted idly with his mother while she cooked breakfast for the three of them, Dean still notably absent. Eggsy would probably take his leave before he showed up, or would try to at least. 

They all ate together, Eggsy and Daisy posing for another photo, and once they were done, Eggsy helped Daisy carry all her shiny new things to her room as he settled her down for a probably well-needed nap. He kissed her forehead and touched her cheek affectionately, wishing he could just scoop her up and take her with him when he left.

His mother was cleaning up the remains of breakfast, and he was about to be quite proud of her until she did the exact thing he wanted her not to do. 

"You and Harry get each other anything?" Michelle asked as she scrubbed at the bacon pan, glancing over at him when he emerged from Daisy's room. 

Eggsy sighed, the smile falling from his face as quickly as though it were wiped away. "No, mum," he said firmly, choosing to stand rather than sit this time. He might be on his way fairly soon. "He's gone, remember?"

"Yeah," she agreed, though she didn't sound fully convinced. "I just would have thought with how much you put in on Daisy, that you'd do the same for him." She sounded disappointed, somehow, and Eggsy couldn't figure out why she would be.

"Like I said, Harry and I don't really celebrate Christmas.” He shrugged, hands in his pockets. "Besides, why spend his own money on shit for him? He can buy whatever it is himself."

"Well, that ain't the point," Michelle protested, turning to Eggsy and wiping her hands on her apron again. "Christmas is when you show those you love that you care--"

"Don't tell me what Christmas is about, mum. I know what it's supposed to be,” Eggsy snapped, regretting it as soon as her eyebrows pulled together in offense. "Sorry," he sighed, shoulders slumping. "But it's my life, yeah? I'm gonna do with it what I'm gonna do with it."

"Alright, Eggsy," she sighed, making to turn back to the dishes. 

Eggsy almost felt bad; he hadn't meant to snap at her like that, but she kept pushing something he clearly didn't want pushed. 

Michelle stopped herself, remembering something with an 'oh!’ before bustling out of the kitchen past him and into her bedroom. 

He could hear snores coming from inside and grimaced. Of course Dean would be sleeping through Christmas. Though Eggsy couldn’t help but think that Dean might've had the right idea with this one.

Seconds later, Michelle reemerged, holding a bulky, unwrapped box with a bow on it. "Almost forgot," she explained, offering it. "Was up late working on it, forgot to bring it out when Dais woke me up."

Curiously, Eggsy took the box, lifting open the lid as though afraid a jack-in-the-box was about to leap out at him. Inside was a book, made of a white material that looked like it was imitating leather in look and feel, with a picture of he and his mother when he was about eight years old with 'Gary “Eggsy” Lee Unwin' written in fancy golden lettering beneath it. He blinked, taking the book out and sitting down at the kitchen table to look at it properly, his mother happily standing behind him to look over it with him.

Opening the front page, Eggsy found his baby pictures, one of him screeching his head off probably at about a day old, right next to one of him sleeping in his mother's arms in the hospital bed, her looking up at the camera at her side with a tired smile. 

The next page was Lee holding him, looking in the first one as though his entire world stopped for this little lumpy thing in his arms, the one beside it him holding him in his lap, baby Eggsy slumped over and Lee clearly uncertain what to do with him. Eggsy laughed despite himself; he hadn't seen those pictures before.

He kept flipping through the book, going in chronological order. There they all were, the three of them for a family photo. His mother's hair was so much shorter then, and she looked so much happier and younger, holding Eggsy on her lap or taking the picture as Lee played with him. Eggsy's throat felt tight, constricted and hot, his heart caught in a vice grip. It was so bittersweet, really. He loved having these photos, he'd never seen them before, Michelle must have saved and hidden them, but they made him so sad at the same time, looking at a man he didn't really remember much. 

Sure enough, more photos came and Lee was in uniform holding Eggsy's hand, next to the head shot in uniform Eggsy had on his dresser at home, and one of him standing at attention, eyes narrowed in concentration. In the headshot Eggsy had of him, he looked almost happy, like a smirk was dancing in his eyes and just at the very corner of his mouth. But in this one, Eggsy could really see himself in Lee’s face. Same jaw, same eyes, same expression. It hurt to look at it; he almost shut the book tightly.

Mercifully, after that, the pictures were sparse, showing only key notes in Eggsy’s life. Gymnastics competitions, looking sheepish after breaking his arm in his first free-running injury, graduating from school. His own military headshot was in there too, and he was surprised; he'd forgotten what it looked like. He looked far more rebellious than his father had, glaring at the camera as though daring it to talk down to him. He... hadn't realized he looked that way, a few short years ago. But it did make sense, he’d been very angry during the time that picture was taken; it wasn't a shocker.

After that came photos from his wedding, ones he hadn't seen yet, prefaced with the spelling out of his new name, 'Gary “Eggsy” Lee Unwin-Hart.' Still weird to see it written out. 

There were shots of him standing at the top of the steps waiting for people to show up taken from behind, rendering him backlit in actually quite a flattering way, as though he were highlighted around his edges, his hair extra golden. There was a picture of him and Harry at the altar, and wow, they looked every bit as estranged as they had felt at the time. Stiff, almost like they were photoshopped together rather than standing there. Eggsy wrinkled his nose. The reception photos were better; there were plenty of him with a loosened tie and a drink in his hand, dancing and partying with his friends, and the ones of he and Harry doing their actual dance had turned out well too. It was amazing what some actual happiness did for photos.

After that, the pages were blank. There were still plenty of them, with little snaps for the photos to be slid into place, but Eggsy didn't waste much time looking at them. He flipped back through the pages to see the ones from the beginning again, with him, his mother, and his father. Those were the ones he really cared about. "...thanks, mum," he muttered, looking at the photo of him holding onto his dad's hand, Lee fully in uniform. It hurt to look at, but he was very happy he had it. "Thanks," he said again, standing and hugging her tightly.

Michelle hugged him back, rubbing his back gently. "You're welcome, Eggsy," she sighed, tilting her head towards his. "Happy Christmas."

He left not long after that, the book tucked under his arm, Santa hat abandoned on the table. Waving goodbye to his mother, he returned to the car, finding it still relatively early, only 11 in the morning. He wasn't expecting Harry to come home at all, really, as he had Christmas missions to fulfill. 

So Eggsy slowly headed back to the house, unsure what to do with himself since nothing was open. Video games it was, he supposed. He sat on the couch, legs folded beneath him, sweater tugged off and draped on the back of it. The photo album remained close by him in case he felt the urge to look through it.

-

The real estate office closed down for the holidays two days before Christmas, letting Harry concentrate fully on Kingsman for the first time since last year's season. It was nice to sink himself into the kind of work he actually enjoyed. It kept him busier than ever; this time was always big for threats and attempts at attacks, given the large crowds certain places tended to draw. He and the rest of the knights were constantly shifting back and forth between the big cities, acting as unknown saviors to hundreds, if not thousands.

Then, naturally, there was the paperwork to follow all that up with. “You would think,” he grumbled to Merlin once, staring down at a 15 page document he was supposed to read through and initial, “that we would have figured out a way to avoid all this by now.” But as of yet, they hadn't, and it was often that that kept him up into the small hours of the night, hurriedly trying to finish it before the next disaster struck.

Harry saw barely anything of Eggsy, or indeed of home, during that time. He returned briefly on Christmas Eve to shower, shave, and change, managed to squeeze a bit of time in with his husband before dashing back out the door. Eggsy hadn't seemed quite as down as he had the previous few days, for which Harry was grateful. He didn't have the time to do anything about it, and knowing that he was leaving Eggsy alone was made easier by his positive demeanor.

The 25th rolled around with surprisingly few incidents. It seemed that even criminals were taking the day off, and Harry only had to defuse one dirty bomb and tangle with the resulting report, all of which he finished by six in the afternoon. "Merlin," he said, tapping the side of his glasses, "is there any way I could redirect further missions?"

After being assured that Tristan and Gawain were available for the rest of the day, Harry filed the report and sighed, contemplating actually leaving. He decided on following through. Regardless of whether or not Eggsy was home, he needed a break. He'd been working virtually non-stop for going on a week, and there was no foreseeable end to it. There would always be another threat, another person or organization popping up that they'd have to combat, and if the only break Harry could get was half of Christmas Day, he was going to take it.

Harry’s taxi cab weaved slowly through snow-covered streets, and he stared out the window, watching the white flakes spiral lazily downwards. The perfect white Christmas, it seemed. Reminders of the holiday were everywhere, from the sale signs still stuck up in the windows of the shops to the colored strings of fairy lights hanging from nearly every roof.

His mobile rang. Harry glanced down at it in surprise; he couldn't even remember the last time he'd gotten a call on it, and he narrowed his eyes at the number. It wasn't one he'd expected to see again. Briefly, he considered just ignoring it. But curiosity got the better of him, and he accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"I'm sorry is this... I'm trying to reach a Mr. Harry Hart?" Her voice sounded just as Harry remembered it, soft like she was trying her best not to speak at all but knew she had to.

He rested his head back against the headrest, still side-eyeing the view from the window. "You've reached him." He fell silent, waiting, but there was nothing but the sound of breathing on the other end. "How are you, Hannah?" he prompted.

For a brief second, he didn't think she was going to answer and it would be just another of their pointless conversations. "I'm good. Yeah, I'm good. How are you, Harry?" she finally asked.

"I've been well." Well enough, at least. His thumb rubbed absently over his wedding band, and he closed his eyes. "I'm married again, actually."

There was another bout of silence before Hannah replied, her voice much warmer. "That's wonderful to hear. I'm happy for you."

Harry hummed noncommittally, fingers tapping out a rhythm on his knees. "And you? How are things with... Richard, was it?" he asked, figuring it was the polite thing to do. More polite than just hanging up on her, anyways.

"Richard, yes. He's good. We're... good. We have a son, Martin; he's just turned seven last month."

"I'm glad to hear it," Harry said, tone neutral. He waited for a bit before asking, "Was there a reason you called?"

She laughed lightly, a breathy little giggle that pulled one corner of Harry’s mouth into a smile. "No, nothing in particular. I was just thinking of you, that's all. Happy Christmas, Harry."

"Happy Christmas, Hannah." He disconnected the call, setting the phone back down in his lap and sighing. There wasn't any resentment towards her, not anymore, not like there had been when she'd first left him. It had been around this time when they’d separated, and the first few Christmases afterwards had seen him tossing out all the decorations, steadfastly refusing to get into any sort of holiday spirit. Over time the sting of it had faded, completely gone by now, but Harry had never quite recovered a love for it.

The taxi rolled to a stop in front of his house, dark and dull-looking compared to its neighbors, strung up with lights and inflatable snowmen as they were. He paid the cabbie, slammed the door shut, and trudged to his front door. He hesitated outside briefly, glancing up at the sky where the stars were already shining. With a soft sigh, he made his way inside, leaving the chill of the outdoors behind him.

When Harry got home, Eggsy hadn't moved much outside of making one of the dinners Harry had already shown him and keeping a plate for him on the counter. He was sat where he always was, though this time rather than a racing or shooting game, it was almost a movie, smooth cinematics and hyper realistic graphics, with only a few buttons and movements here and there to advance it. In keeping with the spirit of ignoring the holiday, Eggsy was playing a horror game, having lost himself almost entirely to the game already.

Eggsy had thankfully just finished a series of quick-time events when he heard the door open, so he could say his 'hello, Harry' without the hard edges of distraction in his voice, sounding more neutral than anything else.

"Hello, Eggsy," Harry said, glancing over at the screen as he relieved himself of his coat and scarf. The plate sitting on the kitchen counter caught his eye, and he wandered over to grab both it and a fork, hesitating a moment before taking it out to the living room and lowering himself to the sofa cushion beside Eggsy. "How were Michelle and Daisy?" he asked, looking at the game and not his husband as he started eating. 

Eggsy didn't look up as Harry sat by him, a little too enveloped in the exploration bit he was doing to take his attention away. "Dais was a three year old on Christmas morning, so she was elated," he snorted, the character wrapped in a towel on the screen stumbling a little in the darkened building she was in. "Mum seemed in a great mood. Was nice to see them," he hummed, speaking truthfully. It was nice to see them, much as he'd seen them and been depressed by it the previous few weeks. "World safe from Christmas baddies?" he asked idly.

Harry snorted, swallowing down the mouthful he had. "The world is never truly safe as they never actually stop. But it was safe enough to let me come home," he added, reaching forward to set his mostly empty plate down on the coffee table before leaning back into the sofa cushions. For a second, he debated the merits of telling Eggsy about Hannah, but decided it probably wasn't the best time to have that discussion, not with the way Eggsy had been feeling lately. As Harry watched the character on the screen creep around the house, his hand absently moved to Eggsy's leg, fingers trailing down the outside of his thigh. 

"I'm glad you could." Eggsy’s lips twitched when he felt a hand on him, and rather subconsciously the leg inched over toward Harry the slightest bit. Comparing this quiet evening to all the festivity his mother had put into their Christmas morning, Eggsy found himself partial to the quiet. His bias toward the season aside (as much as he could put something aside that was that ingrained into him), this sort of thing was how one generally started to rebuild themselves, wasn't it? Next year, wherever he ended up being, he would be less of a grouch about it, he was fairly certain. That gift from his mother must have helped to give him some closure. What's done is done, after all.

That brought a soft smile to Harry’s face. Months ago, weeks ago even, Harry doubted whether or not his being home would have made any difference to Eggsy, but something had shifted over the last few days. Perhaps it was only their mutual dislike of the time of year, or maybe it was something else, something he couldn't identify, but he was grateful for whatever it was. 

Harry watched him play the game for a little longer before clearing his throat, head tipping to the side so he was actually looking at Eggsy. "I know we said we weren't doing gifts, and we aren't, but I did want to give you something," he said. 

"Hm?" Hitting pause, Eggsy set the controller down so he could properly look over to him, his hands falling into his lap. He looked at him with a question in his eyes.

Harry stood up, pushing a hand through his hair before shrugging one shoulder. "I realize I wasn't the most... enthusiastic dance partner at our wedding. And I know you were excited for it, so I thought maybe..." He waved one hand helplessly, looking a touch embarrassed. "I'm better without an audience," he finished lamely.

Slowly, a smile spread across Eggsy’s face. He hadn't thought much of the dancing since it happened, or didn't happen much rather, and as far as what he’d expected Harry to say, that was pretty low on the list. But still, it was a nice suggestion. Nodding, Eggsy stood as well, his head slightly tilted as he looked at him. "All yours, guv," he said, unsure of what he had in mind but ready and willing to do whatever he wanted.

"If you want to put something on, I'll move this mess out of the way," Harry offered, inclining his head towards the coffee table that took up most of the floor space in the living room. He hadn't picked his home with a dance floor in mind, so they'd have to shove some of the furniture out of the way and make do.

Eggsy hummed once in consideration, and closed down his game on the system to instead try and pull up Pandora. "Most of my music ain't the kind you'd like much, I don't think," he prefaced, remembering how the music he'd liked at the wedding Harry didn't seem particularly inclined to dance around to. And failing that, he wasn't sure what Harry wanted.

Harry shrugged. "Tis the season," he muttered, concentrated more on shoving the coffee table over to one side than music selection. He moved the armchair back before turning the table sideways and pushing it off to the side again. 

Shrugging in return, Eggsy put on his usual playlist of techno and alternative rap, abandoning the controller on the television stand and turning to admire how much more space it seemed they had with even just the table out of the way. 

Once Harry had messed with the furniture as much as he was going to mess with the furniture, he straightened back up, glancing over at Eggsy. "The things you call music," he teased with a small smile.

Eggsy lightly closed his eyes and moved his hips and shoulders in synchronization to the beat of the song currently playing. "Can't hear you over the sound of my awesome music," he said with a half-smirk, his eyes opening again.

Remembering his trick from the last time that had served him well, Harry watched Eggsy. He moved his body with him, matching his movements and rolling his eyes. "And what music would that be?"

"At the moment," and Eggsy glanced at the TV to get the name of the current song, which made him snort out a laugh. That made sense. "Dance With Me. Calvin Harris. Far as my taste in music goes, this ain't too out there," he grinned, his body moving automatically with the familiar beat and rhythms. He'd heard this one many times.

"How appropriately named," Harry chuckled, trying not to lose the rhythm. He was finding it a little easier to keep up with Eggsy's moves now that there was nobody else's eyes on him. 

With music like this, it was easy for Eggsy to lose himself to the swaying and popping of hips and shoulders, and as he went, he edged closer over to Harry, until there were only two or three feet between them. The song changed to a Daft Punk Kanye West remix and Eggsy's dancing changed to match the beat, grinning and happy.

Harry noticed Eggsy getting closer, naturally, but he didn't do anything to discourage him or back up. He wasn't copying him quite as closely anymore, not being quite as poppy as the younger man.

Eggsy didn't get any closer than he was, there was really no need to, but distance was weird with music like this. The songs changed, but Eggsy wasn't paying attention much to individual songs, just sort of pleased to be doing this, as odd as it was to be dancing Christmas night in his living room with his particular husband. He laughed under his breath, looking down at the floor and up to Harry's eyes. It was nice, that something he didn't know he needed could help him be happy. 

That seemed to be something he got a lot from Harry of late. Something he didn't know he needed that could help him be happy. 

At Eggsy's light laugh and the look he gave him, Harry stopped dancing and crossed his arms with a huff. "Alright, I know I'm not  _ that  _ good, but you don't have to laugh at me about it," he said.

Eggsy rolled his eyes, stopping his dancing and just swaying instead because standing still felt odd. "Don't be sulky, I ain’t laughing at you. I'm just... This isn't what I expected from my night, you know?"

Harry shrugged, glancing around at the newly cleared sitting room. "We can do something else, if you'd rather," he offered. "It was just a spur of the moment idea."

Shaking his head, Eggsy stepped forward to close some of the remaining gap, reaching forward to grab both of Harry’s hands and pull them down to their sides, loosely holding them, though he wasn't sure what for. He kind of just wanted to touch him in some way. "I like this. But if you're antsy, I can always change the music. Just cause I like it don't mean you have to." Even if he would love to see Harry continuing to dance like that; it was quite fun, and Eggsy was rather disappointed to have scared him off of it involuntarily, somehow twice now.

"I wouldn't mind a change in music," Harry sighed, secretly relieved. The way Eggsy had been swinging his hips was sending his mind to places he wasn't sure he wanted it to go. 

Giving him a flash of a grin, Eggsy dropped his hands and went to grab the controller again, backing out of the playlist to the search function and walked back over to Harry, offering it to him. "Whatever you want, it's got most things. Go nuts," he smiled.

Despite Eggsy's reassurances, Harry scrolled through the stations without finding anything he recognized. Finally, he spotted something he thought he'd heard before. It was slower than the one they'd been dancing to, admittedly, but he selected it nonetheless. 

When Eggsy gave him full control of the music, he did expect to hear something not quite as fast paced, but that was alright. He had meant whatever Harry wanted. When he made his choice, Eggsy turned to him with slightly raised eyebrows, waiting to follow his lead.

Harry turned to face Eggsy, pausing for a brief second before bowing at the waist formally. "Mr. Unwin-Hart, will you do me the honor of giving me this dance?" he asked, glancing up at him from his bent-over position. 

As Harry bent down, Eggsy smirked, rather admiring the sight for a second before answering. "I'd be happy to," he said, intentionally enunciating to pair with the formality with which Harry asked, his eyes showing more of his smile than his lips.

Straightening up, Harry stepped forwards, the space between them all but disappearing as he slid his arm around Eggsy's waist, his other hand seeking out Eggsy's and entwining their fingers together. 

Still smiling, Eggsy allowed him to position them, his hand automatically holding onto Harry's. Knowing that put him in the stereotypical 'girl' position really didn't bother him; his other hand easily slid up and hooked onto Harry's (stupidly broad, how was it so broad?) shoulder.

This time, Harry felt much more comfortable leading, taking Eggsy in big, swooping circles around the living room as the lyrics to the song actually kicked in. 

Eggsy was content to be led, finding the circular motions easy and rhythmic. Though of course, the one snag was Eggsy's dreadful lack of experience in dancing in any way other than the way he knew. As Harry had struggled and mirrored Eggsy's motions while he was leading, Eggsy too was looking down more so than up, continually checking to make sure he wasn't going to step on Harry's foot by accident or trip on something and embarrass himself. But when he felt comfortable enough in the pattern, he looked up, smiling faintly at Harry.

Harry noted the way Eggsy kept looking down at the floor, apparently trying to get a feel for the slower rhythm. Eggsy looked up at him as they turned another circle and he returned his smile, arm tightening around his waist, pressing him a bit closer. His thumb brushed across the knuckles of the hand he was holding, and he tilted his head down so their heads were closer together. 

"Loosen up a little," Harry suggested. "It'll help." As if attempting to get him to do just that, Harry put a little bit more sway into it, body moving more from side to side than it had been before.   

Loosening up seemed rather counter-intuitive to the way he had seen other couples dance in this fashion before, usually so stiff and upright, but Harry seemed to know what he was talking about in this situation, and Eggsy most assuredly did not. He did as Harry suggested, giving his body permission to loosen up and give in to the flow of the song, take in the rhythm and match it with his body. It was just the same as when he did it, only different.This time he relied on instinct and feel, moving along with Harry, which was quite easy with how close their bodies were to each other. It felt quite nice: their fronts pressed together, Harry’s arm looped around his waist, the steady music pushing them to move together and sway.

As Eggsy relaxed against him, Harry found himself following his own advice more than he had been before. His eyes half-closed and he hummed along to the song for a bit before singing along, voice soft, barely there. "Someone like you, and all you know, and how you speak..."

Eggsy’s eyes had drifted mostly closed themselves in order to concentrate on the music, but at the low hum along with the lyrics so close to his ear, they cracked open again, soft as he listened to Harry quietly sing. Eggsy closed them again, not wanting to make Harry feel self-conscious; he hoped quite a bit that he wouldn't stop. Even barely hearing him despite their closeness, his low voice sounded so nice to him just then. Eggsy’s lips pulled to a full smile as he listened, dancing along with him all the while.

"Countless lovers under cover of the street," Harry continued, missing the brief second where Eggsy's eyes flicked open. He sang the the chorus as well, stopping when the song turned instrumental, thumb absently rubbing circles into the small of Eggsy's back where his hand was resting. The second verse picked up, but he didn't sing any more, content just to listen. 

Eggsy was rather disappointed when Harry’s voice didn't come back when the singer's did. He liked this song, knew it well enough, but it felt a bit different this time in the intimacy of the dance they were locked in, even more different still when the words were sung just a breath away from him. His hand slipped a bit from its perch on Harry’s shoulder, resting instead almost on his chest in what little space remained between them, his soft green eyes opening again to look up at the face a few short inches away from his own.

Harry's step nearly faltered when he noticed Eggsy's gaze. He didn't think anybody had ever looked at him like that before, not really. Not even Hannah, and they'd been married for a little over four years. The overwhelming urge to kiss Eggsy swept over him, and he brought them to a halt. Harry just stared at Eggsy for a moment before he leaned in closer, lips almost touching his but not quite, a silent question for permission. 

It wasn't even a question to be considered; Eggsy had wanted to kiss him since the first lyric had dropped from his lips. When Harry stopped just short, Eggsy met him the rest of the way almost without pause, kissing him slowly as his hand gently curled to hold onto the fabric of his suit jacket.

Harry dropped Eggsy's hand in favor of bringing his hand up to cup his face, thumb brushing over his cheek gently. The arm around his waist got a little tighter as well, pressing Eggsy practically flush against him as any lingering tension melted out of him. 

With his hand free, Eggsy wound it around Harry's back, assisting in pulling their bodies together because he wanted that closeness, to feel him everywhere. Unthinkable weeks ago, unlikely days ago, but now in this specific moment, Eggsy was very content to kiss and be kissed like this, his insides melted and warm. He could have stayed that way for a while, the song playing in the background as they kissed in the middle of the almost empty room, lit only by the two lamps and what little moonlight filtered in through the blinds. It felt... right. And Eggsy hoped that, whatever awkward thing that would happen to break this as things so often went, it would be pushed back, delayed, because he was happy, happy to just stand there holding onto and kissing his husband slowly and softly in response to whatever had passed between them moments ago.

It was like the world stilled for a brief moment. There were signs it was still spinning, of course, but Harry chose to ignore them, more than willing to let this moment stretch as long as the universe would allow. He supposed he should have seen this coming, the way he felt about Eggsy. Ever since his husband had found out about Kingsman, things had been edging from awkward to genial, dipping into near-friendly sometimes. 

After being on his own for so long, Harry hadn't expected to do anything but tolerate his new companion but now... well, he would have to say he was rather fond of Eggsy. Liked him even. Definitely liked kissing him. But lungs demanded air, and he eventually had to pull away. He didn't go far, just enough so that he could breathe, forehead resting gently against Eggsy's.

When they did have to part, Eggsy loosened his grip on Harry again, his eyes closing reflexively as he felt the warm weight pressing against his forehead. He didn't say anything, just let himself breathe, holding loosely onto him and forbidding himself from thinking too much outside of the music behind them and his heartbeat in his ears.

Harry hadn't ever been one for physical contact, but Eggsy seemed to break those rules. Harry wanted to touch him, run his hands over every inch of his body and learn the things nobody else would know. Even as he thought about  it, his hands went wandering, the one cupping Eggsy’s cheek trailing down his neck and the other sliding around to settle on his hip.

Eggsy was starting to notice this, becoming more surprised by the moment that Harry wasn't pulling back and putting distance between them again. With how close they were, he expected him to spend the rest of the night processing it and counteracting it by putting space between them again. Eggsy was, of course, pleasantly surprised that Harry wasn't. After all, he personally very much liked to be touched, and he would never have asked for this amount on his own. Harry's hands slid around on him, but he kept his own in place, one on Harry’s shoulder and the other on his back.

The hand trailing down Eggsy's neck made its way lower, dragging down the fabric of his sweater as it went over his chest, only stopping when he reached his other hip. Harry’s hold on him was light, easy to break out of if Eggsy so desired. But he suspected that wasn't what Eggsy wanted at all. "Does this help you?" he asked quietly, neither opening his eyes nor raising his head.

"Mhmm." Eggsy chose to hum rather than speak, trusting it more, and Harry already knew his answer before he voiced it, he knew. While he wasn't certain if he'd ever spelled it out in so many words, Eggsy’s reactions were impossible to hide, and it was Harry's job to be perceptive. The hand on his back joined the hand on his front, loosely pressing against Harry’s chest, Eggsy’s mind helpfully providing a visual for what was underneath his hands.

It was only the answer Harry was expecting but it helped, somewhat. Helped convince him that he wasn't fucking things up with stunts like this one, or the one in the kitchen. 

Days had gone by where Eggsy had no one, when Harry was away and he was alone in his house. Days like that couldn't be easy for Eggsy, not if he was as tactile as it seemed. So Harry resolved to be more physical after periods like that, times when he was gone for hours and hours on end. And it just so happened that this was one of those occasions, given how infrequently he'd seen Eggsy recently. 

The pressure on his chest was barely notable, hardly worth mentioning, but Harry backed up because of it anyways, walking backwards towards the sofa and tugging Eggsy along by his hips.

Eggsy followed along easily as his hips were pulled, though he wasn't sure where they were going or why until they approached the couch again. And even then, 'why' was still up in the air. With Harry pulled back from his face a little more, Eggsy opened his eyes again, looking between him and where they were walking.

When the backs of Harry's knees hit the edge of the sofa, he collapsed onto the cushions, tugging Eggsy down with him and stretching up to kiss him again. 

Plopping down, Eggsy opened his mouth to say something, maybe to apologize for his compulsory need to touch and be touched, or to reassert that Harry didn't need to be doing this if he was doing so only for Eggsy’s sake. But when Harry made to kiss him again, the words became lost to him, and he easily kissed him back. Kisses did take precedent to apologies.

Aware that Eggsy had been about to say something (and feeling no guilt whatsoever for interrupting him with a kiss) Harry didn't make it a long one, pulling back and smirking up at him after a bit. "I'm sorry, what was it you were going to say?" he asked, hands sliding down from Eggsy’s hips to his thighs. 

When Harry pulled away again, Eggsy's eyes reopened after a beat, and he smirked down at him as well, albeit genuinely forgetting what it was he was going to say for a moment there. "...something like 'please kiss me, Harry'? That was probably it," he nodded in faux-seriousness.

"I'm sure it was," Harry said wryly, slowly sliding his hands back up his thighs, over his hips, bunching up the hem of the sweater he was wearing. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, this is in the way."

"It always does this," Eggsy tutted, but followed his instruction and took it off over his head by tugging the back of it and pulling, making his hair more untidy than usual as the static made it stand up partially on end.

Harry pressed his lips together, trying to keep back a snort of amusement. It didn't work. He chuckled, reaching up to card his fingers through Eggsy’s hair in an attempt to brush the static out of it.

Eggsy half-grinned, pleased to find Harry amused even if it was at his expense, and bent his head down to make it a little easier to run through his hair. 

Once Harry had managed to somewhat flatten down Eggsy's hair, he gave him another brief kiss. His hands didn't stay still for long, quickly moving to glide over the whole new expanse of skin.

With every kiss he got from Harry, however brief, Eggsy found himself wanting more of them. Smirking to himself, he straightened his spine as Harry's hands went wandering, his hands resting on his shoulders for lack of anything else to do with them.

Harry decided limiting his exploration to his hands would be one hell of a wasted opportunity, and he leaned forwards, pressing his lips to Eggsy's shoulder. He skimmed them over his collarbone, ending in the hollow of his throat.

With lips passing over his skin, Eggsy hummed, his head automatically tilting a bit as Harry neared his throat. There wasn't a whole lot he could do from this position, but Harry's head was right there, and he didn't really stop his hand as it slid along his shoulder, up the warmth of his neck, and lightly threaded his fingers in his hair. And what colour was his hair, anyway? Blondish-brownish-greyish? All at once?

The neat styling Harry worked so hard on in the mornings was mostly undone by the evening anyway, though he didn't think he would have minded Eggsy combing through it even then. His mouth moved downwards, and his eyes flicked briefly up to Eggsy's face, a quick smirk flitting over his lips before he pressed them to one of his nipples.

Eggsy always had the urge to touch his hair, and he was quite proud of himself for resisting the urge most of the time to make sure he didn't disrupt the obvious styling Harry was going for. But now that he had the chance, he played with it, running his fingers through the longer locks on top. All at once however, his eyebrows rose in surprise and his hand stilled in his hair. Eggsy hadn't noticed Harry glancing up at him, and while he felt his lips moving, he didn't quite expect him to suddenly be at his nipple. They were rather sensitive, and Eggsy looked down at him with his lips twitching.

Were Harry's mouth not otherwise occupied, he would have smirked again as he felt Eggsy's hand stop moving, presumably out of surprise. His tongue darted out briefly, just long enough to swipe over it.

If Harry's head were anywhere else, anywhere at all, Eggsy might have been able to disguise the slight hitching of his breath as some sort of cough or fluke. But Harry was right there against his chest; clearly he’d noticed. Eggsy's lips pressed together as he looked at him to unsuccessfully try and keep back a smile at his own expense.

The slight stutter in Eggsy's breath was enough to convince Harry he'd concentrated on the right area, and he tucked that information away. It could certainly come in handy later. At the moment, however, he pulled away, moving to kiss each freckle patterning Eggsy's pale skin. 

Eggsy stopped restraining his smile as Harry's lips peppered over his skin, kissing where he was well aware dark freckles interrupted his otherwise clear skin. The hand in his hair started combing through again, his eyes threatening to close. It felt nice, albeit a bit cold.

When Harry had kissed all the freckles there were (the ones visible to him at the moment, anyways) he drifted away, head leaning back into Eggsy's touch. 

When Harry pulled away, Eggsy bent down to press his own kisses, light and in seemingly random places to his face, his hand still playing absently with his hair. 

Now that he no longer had to anchor Eggsy in place, Harry let his hands roam again, warm palms skimming over his ribs. 

Eggsy couldn't help himself; one of his hands held its position in Harry’s hair while the other pulled at his shoulder, his lips drawn back to Harry's like a magnet. 

Harry didn't try and dissuade him. He let himself be pulled in, let their lips meet in another soft kiss. His hands drifted back down, thumbs rubbing small circles into the space above Eggsy’s hipbones.

Eggsy wasn't sure how this had actually unfolded, but he was happy it happened. Eggsy's tongue prodded Harry's lips to try and deepen the kiss as his legs squeezed him gently.

Harry's breath caught in his chest as he felt Eggsy's legs contract around him. His lips parted in response to his tongue, his own sliding into Eggsy's mouth.

Eyes already closed, Eggsy tilted his head a bit more so their lips fit together and locked in place, tongue slowly sliding along and playing with Harry's. He was still learning him, discovering what he tasted like and how he liked to kiss, and every time he did get to, he wanted as much as Harry would give him. Were be able, he would have been pulling him closer still, subconsciously scooting forward a bit more on his lap.

It was all Harry could do to swallow down a moan as Eggsy moved in his lap, his grip tightening a little, unconsciously. He ran his tongue over every part of Eggsy he could reach, wanting to know just what he tasted like in a way nobody else would. The more time he spent with him, the more his possessive side was stirring, wanting to keep Eggsy for himself, ruin him for anyone else, be the only one who really  _ knew  _ him. It disturbed Harry a little, but not enough to dissuade him from desiring it all the same. 

Hands abandoning his hair and shoulder for the moment, they fell to grasp Harry's hands and guide them to his thighs. The more time they were spending like this, the more Eggsy wanted this. The progression from a look to making out on the couch had been a slow one, and Eggsy was starting to worry it would get out of hand. He stayed locked in the kiss as long as he could, breaking away only when he truly needed to breathe, though he didn't break completely away, only pulling back the few inches that was necessary.

Harry let his hands be moved down to Eggsy's thighs, squeezing lightly once they had settled properly into place. His right didn't stay there long, however, moving to rest lightly against his cheek when they broke apart. 

"Eggsy," Harry panted, lungs spent from their lingering kiss. "Tell me if we should stop." His eyes flicked up until they met those of his husband, dark and lust-blown. "Because I want all you're going to give." 

Objectively, Eggsy should say no. He should press a gentle apology kiss to Harry’s lips, climb off him, and let them both come down off the lusting high they were on right now. That was probably the right answer. But Eggsy didn't often go for the right answer, and he knew his even before Harry looked at him with eyes that would have had him saying yes any day. 

Sex was just sex to Eggsy, after all, a way he could feel good or bond with someone depending on what the case may be, and he'd been consciously and unconsciously wanting to have sex with Harry for weeks now. All he was going to give was, with Harry's approval and those dark eyes he was definitely going to bring about again, quite a lot. And to top it all off, it was Christmas. This could work quite well in lieu of a gift exchange.

"...then maybe we should move this somewhere that ain't on your nice sofa." Eggsy grinned slightly breathlessly as he too was still getting his breath back from their long kiss. As if to illustrate his intentions, he squeezed Harry with his knees again and slowly slid himself up and back down on his lap with a roll of his hip. He fixed him with a half-smirk still on his lips, his arms draped around Harry’s neck to anchor himself in place. 

That was not exactly the answer Harry had been expecting, and he was totally unprepared for the sudden friction in his lap. His fingers gripped Eggsy's legs a little harder, and he sucked an involuntary breath in through his teeth. While it might not have been the answer he’d thought he was going to get, it  _ was _ the one he'd been hoping for. The last few days had had his mind wandering to all sorts of places when it came to Eggsy, he couldn't deny that.

Harry released his hold on him, slipping his hands under Eggsy’s arse to support him as he rose to his feet, bringing Eggsy up with him. "Much as I would love to see just how wrecked we could get this sofa," he said, voice low, "I think you're probably right."

Shit, he was being lifted. Eggsy had expected to be shoved off, and when Harry lifted him as he stood, his arms instinctively held onto him tighter in his light panic that quickly became a type of excitement. And as soon as he was lifted all the way, his legs hooked around Harry as well, finding himself hoping that was his plan because strength like that really was a turn on. And of course it freed Eggsy to kiss him the whole way upstairs. "What are we waiting for, then?" he countered with a grin, pressing his lips to the corner of Harry’s mouth teasingly.

"Not a damn thing," Harry said, starting off towards the stairs. He weaved his way around the arm of the sofa and started up them, pressing kisses to Eggsy's jaw and neck as he went. Holding Eggsy had been nothing; carrying him up the stairs was a bit of a strain, but nothing he couldn't handle, not with the kind of training he went through and maintained for Kingsman. 

Thankfully, the door to his bedroom was open so he didn't have to figure out how to open it while also retaining his hold on his husband. Harry brought him to the edge of the bed, lowering him carefully and pressing their lips together again. 

Even as his back hit the bedding, Eggsy wasn't about to let go, and while he released Harry with his legs, letting them fall where they might, his arms kept grasping at him, not wanting him to pull away. As they kissed, Eggsy abandoned starting with smaller kisses and immediately tried to lick into his mouth again, holding onto him as though trying to pull him on top of him.

The pleasant pressure of Eggsy's legs around his waist fell away, but Harry didn't have much time to be disappointed about that, not with the almost fevered way Eggsy was kissing him. His lips parted in response to Eggsy's enthusiasm, letting their tongues meet again, the taste of him flooding his mouth. He supported himself on his forearms, one on either side of Eggsy's head to keep himself from collapsing on top of him. 

Even if Harry had fallen on him, Eggsy wouldn't have minded much. When it became apparent that Harry wasn't going anywhere, Eggsy’s hands moved to more important endeavors, like pushing at Harry's clothing. While Eggsy was just down to his jeans now, Harry was still quite clothed, and he simply couldn't have that. At the same time, he was highly reluctant to break away from his lips, teeth nipping at Harry's lower lip.

Harry waited until his lip was released before drawing back and shedding his suit jacket. He dipped back in to kiss Eggsy again, supporting himself with just one arm so his other hand could work at Eggsy's belt. 

Feeling hands on his jeans, Eggsy blindly felt for the edge of the bed support to find an anchor for his heels as he lifted his hips up into Harry’s hand. As he did, his hands sought out Harry's shirt, trying to open the buttons.

As soon as Eggsy's hips lifted off the bed, Harry tugged his jeans down past his knees, dropping his hold on them and hearing them land on the floor, not that he really cared as to their fate. He felt fingers fumbling at his shirt buttons but kept kissing Eggsy, not wanting to pull away.

Fingers not having the muscle memory for buttons, it took a few for Eggsy to get the hang of it, and then he flew through them, pulling them open and pushing the shirt away by sliding his hands along Harry’s body and pushing at the fabric. He broke their rough kiss, propping himself up on his elbows to grin at him with his chest rising and falling from his accelerated breathing. "I'll get good at this eventually, bruv, but till then, get your clothes off."

Chuckling, Harry let the shirt fall away from him, the sleeves the only part that were really still on anyways. He undid his own belt, letting it join the growing pile of clothing before slipping out of his slacks. In nothing more than his boxers, he went back to hovering over Eggsy, kissing his lips before following the curve of his neck down, placing another at the pulse point in his throat. 

As Harry kissed down his neck again, Eggsy hummed pleasantly, a grin on his lips. He still clutched onto him, one of his hands running up and down the planes and subtle ridges of his back and feeling the warm skin while the other found itself drawn to his hair again. Almost without thinking about it, one of Eggsy's legs lifted to wrap around Harry's waist, lifting his hips up off the bed again by an inch.

Harry didn't stop at halfway down Eggsy's chest this time. He slid all the way down Eggsy’s body, leaving kisses in his wake until he reached the waistline of his boxers, the slant of Eggsy's hips making it that much easier to reach. Locking eyes with Eggsy briefly, he dipped his head, mouthing at his cock through his underwear. 

The hum Eggsy made at that was closer to a moan, surprise at both the gesture and sudden attention he had been craving since the sofa. His leg shifted as Harry moved further down on him, but remained resolutely around him. He kept his eyes on Harry's face, a smirk still pulling at his lips.

The almost-moan only served to encourage Harry, and he mouthed at Eggsy again, moving down to specifically target the head of his cock. His fingers curled around the hem of his boxers, inching them downwards just until Eggsy's hipbones were exposed. His head shifted until he could reach the newly exposed skin, teeth skimming over the outline of his hips lightly. 

The feel of teeth on his more sensitive skin sent a shiver down Eggsy’s spine, his hands leaving him to pull at the bedding. "Harry," he said impatiently but with a grin in his voice.

"Patience, Eggsy," Harry murmured, hardly moving his lips off his skin at all. "It's better if you go slow." As he said it, he brushed the very tips of his fingers over the outline of his cock, letting them fall away after that. He moved Eggsy’s boxers down another inch or two, pressing a kiss right below his belly button before tugging them the rest of the way down.

He was right, Eggsy knew he was right. It was better to go slow, build up, really make the person want it so receiving it felt that much better.. But it was one thing to know that, and another thing to make that knowledge win out over pressing want. Still, Eggsy quieted, though he pressed his lips together as his boxers were pulled away, exposing him to the cool air, and it was through a feat of willpower alone that he didn't push his hips up again insistently. Instead, he lay his lower half flat as he propped himself up on his elbows, head tilted as he looked down at Harry with his lip caught between his teeth.

Harry glanced up at Eggsy as he moved, thinking he might be signaling him to stop. But that didn't seem to be the case, and he only ended up smirking at him as he wrapped one hand around his cock, giving him one long, smooth stroke before swiping his tongue over the head of it. 

The stroke had him biting on his lips to keep back a smile, but as soon as wet muscle touched him, his breath hitched and the smile fell, his hands tightening their grip on the bed sheets preemptively. 

Harry took the whole head into his mouth, circling his tongue around it slowly. He bobbed his head once, sinking a little lower down on his cock, tongue pressed against the underside. 

"Shit," Eggsy exhaled under his breath. His hand twitched at his side, itching to to back to Harry’s hair, although this time he restrained himself.

Were he capable of doing so, Harry would have smirked at the muttered expletive. With barely a pause, he sank as far down on Eggsy's cock as he could go, fingers stroking what he couldn't fit in. 

It was rather embarrassing how bloody receptive he was being to this, especially when Harry had yet to really do a lot. But what he had done lit up Eggsy’s nerves, pulling a low and quiet moan from his lips despite his desire to keep it back.

Harry started off just as slow and relaxed as he had been the entire evening, bobbing up and down almost lazily. His tongue swept over Eggsy’s cock in long, broad strokes, sweeping over the head every time he reached the tip, the moan Eggsy gave him more than enough to satisfy him for the moment. 

Eggsy lasted a while like that, worrying his lip and letting his head hit the bedding as his eyes slid shut to enjoy the feelings Harry was eliciting from him. But soon thereafter, he started to grow impatient again, restraint leaving him as his hand found Harry's hair and entangled there, his head lifting again to look down at him. And of course soak in the image of him sinking down around his cock; it was quite the lovely sight.

When Harry felt Eggsy's hand tangling in his hair, he figured it was time to leave the leisurely pace behind. He bobbed his head faster, hand following in his wake, adding pressure to the wet heat of his mouth, swipes of his tongue growing rougher, more sloppy than they had been before.

Harry read him easily enough it seemed, and when he acquiesced to his unspoken request, Eggsy exhaled sharply in another humming moan, the hand threaded in his hair tightening but not pulling. "Fuck," he murmured again, his back arching off the bed a bit.

Harry slid his free hand up Eggsy's stomach, stopping when he reached his chest, the pad of his thumb flicking over his nipple. 

"Ah-" Damn him. Eggsy’s breath caught in his chest at the combination of Harry's mouth and his hand and the nipple play all at once, and he did tug his hair this time, pulling to get his attention. "Harry. Harry, get up here," he managed, his voice thicker than usual.

Very reluctantly indeed, Harry pulled off of Eggsy, running his tongue brazenly over his lips before leaving his position between his legs. He slid up his body until he was practically stretched out over Eggsy, head cocked curiously to one side. 

Eggsy leaned into him enough to overtake his mouth in another kiss, grinning into the lingering taste of himself on his lips. "You keep finding my buttons, bruv, and this'll be done with too soon," he snickered by way of explanation, hooking a leg over him again.

"What happened to all that earlier impatience?" Harry teased, stroking the back of his pointer finger down the side of Eggsy’s cheek. "I was under the impression you didn't want me to draw this out." Harry's hips dipped a bit under the weight of Eggsy's legs, nearly brushing against him.  

"Oh, I do. You're just drawing out the wrong part," Eggsy grinned back, his hips twitching. Damn him again. Harry was quite incessant with the teasing, and much as Eggsy was enjoying it, enjoying him, he also wanted the teasing to stop, to get what he wanted.

With a low chuckle, Harry kissed him again. Once he figured Eggsy would be thoroughly focused on the way his tongue was swiping into his mouth, he rolled his hips down, boxer-clad cock sliding along Eggsy's.

It was quite a simple task to distract Eggsy with kisses, his eyes sliding closed and brain momentarily turning itself off and all. But when he felt Harry moving against him, the sudden rolling of his hips, Eggsy’s eyes snapped open again. Oh, he wanted more of that. If he’d thought he stood a chance in hell, he would have tried to roll Harry over, yank down his boxers and touch and grind and take what he wanted as he wanted it, as Harry seemed so disinclined to give it. But Eggsy tried none of that, simply tilting his hips to try to rub himself up against him again, wanting to feel him without cloth in the way.

Even if Eggsy hadn't tried to rub against him, Harry thought he would have known just how he'd affected him. His eyes drifted open as Eggsy moved beneath him to find his already wide, fixed on him. He had to pull away, laughing lightly. "Was that more like what you were looking for?" he asked smugly, smirking down at him as he repeated the motion, slowing it down this time so Eggsy could feel every inch of him. 

"Christ, you're the worst," Eggsy grinned, amused at his smugness despite himself. He couldn't even blame him; he would probably be doing the same if their positions were reversed. Harry was not making it easy on him, letting him feel, just as he'd thought he'd wanted, but it only left him wanting more.

"I do try," Harry said blandly, stealing the grin from his lips with a kiss. But he decided enough was enough, and besides, he was rather looking forward to going further himself. He knelt, pulling his boxers off one leg at a time and kicking them to the floor. Then he was right back at what he'd already been doing, hips angling into Eggsy's. 

Eggsy was smirking and biting at his lower lip (to have  _ something _ in his mouth) as he craned his neck downward to watch it happen. It felt so weirdly good, foreign hard flesh rubbing up against his own, and his hips moved back with Harry's, increasing the pleasant friction. His hand was there before he was aware of it, touching the both of them together and humming, looking back up at him. "Getting warmer," he teased.

Harry didn't mean to let out something akin to a moan as he rubbed up against Eggsy, and he certainly didn't mean for the involuntary jerk of his hips to happen when Eggsy's hand closed around them. "Fuck," he muttered, leaning back in to kiss him before he could make any other unnecessary noises.

The seemingly involuntary curse was music to Eggsy’s ears, the first real sign in the midst of all the restraint and lackadaisical attitude that Harry was being as affected as Eggsy was, try though he might to keep it back. Inside, Eggsy was grinning smugly as Harry's lips reclaimed his own, his impatient insistence taking a back seat for the moment. With them still in his somewhat loose grasp, he lightly thrust his hips forward and back to rub against him, keeping his cock trapped between Harry’s own and his hand.

Harry resolutely held back another groan, nipping playfully at Eggsy's bottom lip instead. He narrowly stopped himself from rolling his hips down into Eggsy's grip, letting his husband set his own pace for the first time that night. 

How fast the tables turned, and with the control in his hands (literally) Eggsy's fervor for hurrying up had died away. That wasn't to say he was being slow with this; he very much wasn't. His hips rolled up into Harry, hand stroking them both carefully so as not to hurt but firmly enough to feel good, and he hummed another almost-moan into Harry's mouth shamelessly. He wasn't slow, no, but he saw Harry’s point in drawing it out; with this much pleasant build up, it would be so satisfying when Harry eventually pushed into him.

Relinquishing control wasn't something Harry did very often, or ever, really, but if there was one person he could trust with it, that would be Eggsy. The pace he set was maddening, not slow enough to be teasing, but not fast enough to really work him up, balancing the knife edge in between. Harry drank down the moan, hips moving in tandem with Eggsy's. 

Eggsy's hips soon disobeyed him, seeking out pleasure on their own by rubbing upward, less rhythmically than when he'd started. His hand got out of the way, both of them holding Harry at the lower back as he ground himself up against him, leg hooking around one of Harry's as he sought out as much contact as possible. Eggsy was feeling warm, so warm, but the kind of warm that kept him wanting more, his kisses turning sloppier to match.

Eggsy surrounded him, and Harry wouldn't have it any other way. The heat of his mouth as it devoured Harry's, the press of his leg as it hooked over his, the pleasurable sensation of his cock sliding erratically against Harry's, he wouldn’t have traded it all for anything. He moved one of his own hands to Eggsy's abdomen, backs of his fingers running along it in long, smooth strokes coordinated to the thrusting of his hips. 

Eggsy loved feeling Harry everywhere, being pressed down with the bed at his back and his body at his front, hands on his sides, tongue in his mouth. At the same time, he really couldn't take it much anymore. He broke away from his lips, panting lightly again as he muttered, "Harry," his hips jerking out of synch.

Harry stopped moving as soon as he heard his name on Eggsy's lips, the breathy way he said it and the stuttered pattern of his hips making him think he might not last much longer if he kept on. "What is it, Eggsy?" 

"I ain't waiting anymore," Eggsy muttered, nudging his warm neck with his nose and squeezing him with his leg as he too stilled beneath him. His hands slid up Harry’s back, hooking onto his shoulders as he spoke into his neck, voice quiet but solid. "That's enough patience. I want you to fuck me."

For a second, Harry didn't say or do anything, just let himself appreciate the feeling of Eggsy clinging to him. Then he nodded once, reluctantly peeling away from him and reaching to slide open the drawer in his nightstand, fingers fumbling for a condom and the bottle of lube he kept there.

It felt cold as Harry climbed off of him, and Eggsy propped himself up on his elbows, watching him move about. In the meantime, he scooted back on the bed, lying in the middle of it as opposed to the edge on which he’d been dropped.

It didn't take long for Harry to roll the condom on and coat his fingers in lube. He made his way to the middle of the bed where Eggsy now was, pushing his thighs apart and settling in between them before slowly slipping the tip of his index finger inside him.

Eggsy's legs fell apart as Harry approached him, smirking with his eyes on his face. That is, they  _ were _ , until a finger slid into him, when his head fell back and his hips tilted up for him. It still felt a little odd, but his smirk didn't fade, and while it had been quite awhile since he'd had it happen, and one never really got used to it, he got past the feeling of invasion rather easily, anticipating what he knew came after.

Harry slid his finger in to the first knuckle, holding it there to give Eggsy time to adjust. He rather liked the sight of him sprawled out beneath him, hips pulling up towards the ceiling, eyes closed, smirk still playing over his lips. After a few short beats, he began moving his finger, pumping it in and out, gradually increasing the pace as he went. 

"Mmn," Eggsy hummed, grasping at the bedding reflexively as Harry slowly began finger-fucking him. His eyes remained shut, eyes moving beneath their lids as his body's muscles relaxed for him.

Once he thought Eggsy would be sufficiently relaxed, Harry added a second finger, able to work more on stretching him out. He scissored them open a few times before crooking them, seeking out Eggsy’s prostate.

The stretching was mildly uncomfortable, and Eggsy’s smirk fell to a sort of grimace as the sensation prickled at him. That was soon alleviated by the turning of Harry’s fingers inside him, which left him confused until a sudden jolt of pleasure shot through him, making him gasp and his eyes fly open, stomach muscles clenching with the surprise. It was really something different being with someone who apparently knew what they were doing -- the last man Eggsy had been with certainly hadn't.

There was no mistaking when he brushed over the small bundle of nerves, and Harry couldn't help but smirk at the reaction as Eggsy's muscles tensed up and his eyes flew open. "I'm sorry, did I startle you?" he teased, scissoring his fingers again before brushing back over it.

"Fuck," Eggsy said on the exhale of a light laugh, grinning as he looked at Harry again, his head tilted. "You know damn we-" But he was cut off as Harry’s fingers touched that spot in him again, making his breath catch in his chest and pink start to creep up his neck.

Harry watched the flush start to overtake Eggsy and couldn't resist the temptation to swipe over it once more before pulling his fingers out. He reclaimed the bottle of lube, coating his palm with it and giving his own cock a few strokes. He paused then, giving Eggsy a quick kiss before pulling back, looking for confirmation.

Eggsy looked at him with a smile, his eyebrows slightly raising as his legs spread the slightest bit further, in lieu of verbal confirmation. They'd come quite far, and Harry knew quite well what he wanted, though Eggsy didn't want to rush him either at this point.

Satisfied with that, Harry slowly pushed into Eggsy, stopping with just the head of his cock inside, letting him get used to the size of it.

"Mm-" Eggsy made a somewhat strained noise, his hands tightening on the sheets, getting used to the feeling of intrusion. But when Harry stopped, Eggsy muttered 'come on,' under his breath encouragingly, wanting to feel the whole of him if he was going to adjust to anything. 

At Eggsy's urging, Harry kept moving, pushing into him inch by inch until his hips were pressed right up against Eggsy's. He groaned softly at the tight heat of his body, thrills of pleasure racing down his spine. 

As Harry pushed slowly all the way into him, Eggsy’s eyebrows pulled together and lifted, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It felt like so much, like he was filled up, and as he clenched his muscles to truly feel all of him, he was reminded of just how much he liked this. Exhaling an 'ah,' as his muscles tightened, Eggsy abandoned the bed to grab at Harry's back with one arm, holding onto him as he waited.

Harry started moving gradually, pulling out until only the head of his cock remained inside Eggsy before sliding back in. He didn't have the patience he'd had before, not with the way Eggsy was clenching around him, and after one or two thrusts he upped the pace, not letting much time pass between when he pulled out and pushed back in. 

The rocking of his hips had earned him a hum on his exhales, and Eggsy had settled in to prepare himself for more of that for awhile still. But when Harry almost immediately sped his thrusting up, he swore a 'fuck-' as his head fell back to the bed, tilting up and exposing his neck.

Taking that as an invitation, whether an intentional one or not, Harry bent his head to it, mouthing at the newly exposed skin as he continued thrusting into him. 

Eggsy hadn't intended it, had just been stretching his neck, but he was quite pleased he had the moment he felt lips on his skin, a grin spreading on his face. The hand that had been around Harry found his hair again, encouraging him to remain at his neck, his own hips trying to move with Harry's as much as they could with him being pinned to the bed.

Harry's teeth skimmed over Eggsy's skin, not biting down, but wanting to. He contented himself with sucking a mark that would almost certainly be around the next morning. Keeping up the same rhythm, he snaked one hand down Eggsy's body, wrapping it around his cock and stroking him in tandem with his thrusts. 

With the hand on him, the sucking at his neck, and the cock thrusting thrusting repeatedly into him, they together made the first real unhindered moan burst from Eggsy’s lips, one hand pulling at the bedding and the other tugging at Harry’s hair. The flush had crept up his neck and into his face now, his eyes still shut for the moment to savor the quickly overwhelming feeling of all those stimuli at once. "Fuck, Harry-" he groaned, his hips trying to push up into his hand and fuck down onto his cock both at once.

"That  _ is _ the idea," Harry chuckled breathlessly against his neck, cock twitching at the sound he'd coaxed from him. Slipping his free hand into the small of Eggsy's back, he tilted his hips upwards, allowing him to press in deeper, the head of his cock just grazing Eggsy’s prostate. 

And Eggsy would have laughed, would have playfully smacked him for responding to the words that just sort of came out of him of their own volition, but then his spot was hit and he had no hope of saying anything with the second moan caught in his throat. Thanking his stars for gymnastics, he hitched his legs up around Harry again, bending himself nearly in half, this time for leverage to keep his hips tilted for him.

Harry had to admit that that was impressive. He couldn't remember ever sleeping with someone who was quite so bendy before, and he groaned at the new pressure around his waist, Eggsy wrapped all around him. And it had the added advantage of maintaining the angle he was going for, so he was able to graze his prostate every few thrusts, hand still stroking his cock. 

Eggsy was getting close so fast, getting fucked like this, his cock and prostate both as abused as his neck, and his position helped quite a bit, the pressure fueling the warmth pooling in his stomach. "Harry," he muttered, squeezing him as he gasped when his prostate was hit once again, cock twitching in his hand, precome leaking from him.

Harry suspected Eggsy was getting close, would need only a bit more to really tip him over the edge. On his next upward stroke, he swiped his thumb over the head of Eggsy's cock, increasing the pressure as he slid his hand back down. His mouth moved from his neck, where he sucked in one last mark, to one of his nipples, tongue teasing the sensitive spot. 

Eggsy choked again, his back arching immediately on reflex which pushed his chest into Harry’s face. He hadn't expected the extra assault, and it, along with the rest, was enough to push him over, a strained sounding 'fuck!' leaving him as he spilled over, momentarily losing himself in the warmth as his muscles tightened in his orgasm.

“Shit,” Harry muttered as Eggsy clenched around him, a shockwave of pleasure coursing through him as he fucked him through his orgasm. He had to pull his head up to suck in a proper breath, thrusts becoming more erratic.

Eggsy groaned as his muscles began to relax and he started to get over-sensitive, his upper body relaxing back into the bed while his lower half remained taut, legs hooked around Harry still as he fucked into him. It still felt good, despite being so sensitive, his eyes, tired from the exertion, still locked onto his face.

It didn't take much longer before Harry reached his own climax, breathing out Eggsy's name as he came. He shuddered as it coursed through him, only pulling out of Eggsy when he was sure it was over.

"Mm," Eggsy hummed as he pulled out, legs falling back onto the bed and stomach clenching a bit from the loss. He sighed contentedly, his body feeling heavy and sluggish, tired and unwanting to move. He did, however, completely let go of Harry, catching his breath and grinning lightly as his eyes closed again.

Not wanting to lie down, because he knew that he wouldn't be getting back up once he did, Harry disappeared momentarily in the bathroom. When he returned, the condom was gone and he collapsed into bed beside Eggsy.

In the time he was gone, Eggsy moved off to the side enough to give Harry plenty of space, but not much more than that, content to be melted and jelly. Though his eyes were still kind of heavy, he cracked them open and looked at him with a vague crooked smirk.

Harry let out a contented sigh as he sunk into the mattress, eyes half-closing. "Happy Christmas, Eggsy," he murmured quietly, reaching out to stroke a hand along his side gently.

Eggsy blinked slowly. He had completely forgotten. Dancing, slow dancing, making out on the couch, fucking in Harry’s bed, all of that was Christmas Day. Well, it was a damn better Christmas than the last few he'd had. 

"...yeah. Happy Christmas, Harry," he said quietly, smiling this time to himself. Out of respect for Harry’s not being fond of touch (even if he’d been grabbed by him quite a lot in the recent hour) he did not do as his body wanted and curl up by him, did not try to rest his tired head on his chest or shoulder, did not entangle their legs together, did not so much as drape a lazy arm around him. Appreciating the gentle touches to his side, Eggsy grabbed a pillow instead, holding onto it as he allowed himself a measured breath, the energy drain making him quite sleepy.

Harry's hand dropped off and his head rolled to one side, blinking at Eggsy for a second, contemplating. After a moment's hesitation, Harry rolled onto his side, draping an arm around Eggsy's middle and pulling him to him, head bending over his. "Goodnight," he breathed, eyes slowly closing.

Eggsy was startled by the sudden arm around him, pulling him closer to the warm body now pressing into him. At the same time, he smiled. Harry was being quite top here, and while they didn't do presents, he'd given him everything he'd wanted that evening, which was far better for him. He'd have to work out some way to give him a proper thank you. "Night," he sighed contentedly in response, allowing himself to drop off to sleep.


	17. A Walk

For once Harry's alarm didn't disturb the pair, as the offices were closed and Kingsman would notify him via glasses should he have to come in. But bodies are traitorous things, and Harry woke up well before sunrise, as he was used to doing. He was much warmer than usual, he noted before he had opened his eyes. When he blinked awake, he realized why. 

Eggsy was still pressed up against him, Harry’s arm still encircling his waist. And it was... not entirely unpleasant. Not wanting to wake him, he stayed as he was, eyes looking over his husband's face. He seemed so very, very young, face peaceful in his sleep, and Harry felt a brief pang of guilt shoot through him. Carefully, he retracted his arm.

When the arm left him, Eggsy's eyebrows pulled together slightly at the physical disturbance and loss of the warmth and pressure. He made a mumbling sound as he readjusted himself, pulling the pillow tighter against him to compensate.

Harry froze when Eggsy stirred, afraid he'd woken him. But he only snuggled into his pillow and Harry carefully peeled the rest of his body away from him, moving to sit up. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, elbows resting on his knees as he stared out the window into the darkness beyond the glass. Eggsy was making him break all his own rules, and he couldn't explain why.

Eggsy kept sleeping for a while, waking up only ten minutes after his usual alarm would have woken him, early enough to usually say goodbye to Harry, or at least try to. His eyes sleepily cracked open and he yawned, rolling onto his back as he let thought come back to him. He peeked under the covers, confused as to why he felt vaguely sticky and cool, the night coming back as he remembered why he was lying in Harry's bed naked. Oh yeah.

When he felt the mattress shifting behind him, Harry turned, finding Eggsy awake. He didn't say anything, still remembering how soft he'd looked just moments ago. Instead, he just cleared his throat and jerked his head towards the bathroom. "You can shower first," he offered.

Eggsy nodded, stepping out of the bed and rubbing at his face. A shower sounded heavenly, getting the sleep and sex off of him, waking him up properly, great. And he didn't even think about the fact that it wasn't his bathroom, it was Harry's, that he should go to his own to give Harry space. No; he was too tired, so he meandered into the bathroom, leaving his clothes abandoned where they had been ripped off the previous night, and quietly shut the door behind him.

Sighing, Harry let himself fall backwards onto the bed as he waited for Eggsy to take his shower. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to shove his guilt to the side by reminding himself that Eggsy had wanted it just as much as he had.

Eggsy took a nice shower, letting the warm water run over his head and back, the steam warm and relaxing. He even got to peruse through Harry’s bathroom supplies which he hadn't done before, borrowing some of his shampoo to scrub the sleep grease from his hair. Certainly smelled good. As did the body wash he lathered between his hands, rubbing away the dried cum from his stomach. 

It didn't take too long for Eggsy to get cleaned up, stepping out and toweling off his body and hair and glancing at himself in the mirror. After a quick comb through his hair, he tied the towel low around his waist and stepped back out into Harry's bedroom, rubbing his neck and tilting his head.

Harry rose to his feet as Eggsy exited the shower, eyes drifting to where the towel sat low on his waist. He brushed past him on the way into the bathroom, catching a whiff of the shampoo and body wash he always used, something igniting in his gut at the thought that Eggsy smelled so much like him. It made him want to press him up against the door and rip the towel right off of him again. But he didn't, just closed the door behind him, dug another towel out from under the sink, and started his own shower. 

Feeling pretty good (if a bit sore in a fun way) after the shower, Eggsy smiled at Harry as he passed him, and bent to gather up the trousers and boxers that lay scattered on the floor. Taking them to his room and dumping them in the laundry bin, he threw on some new clothes, his usual jeans and a black polo shirt, and headed downstairs. He was fine being up, even if it was still early; he did hate burning daylight. As always, he headed to the kitchen to start up morning beverages, playing a song on his phone he could hum along to to break the silence of the early morning.

The shower Harry took that morning was longer than usual. For one, he had time to enjoy it that he didn't usually have, and he was going to take advantage of it, given how much he liked them. For another, it was an easy and valid excuse to avoid Eggsy for a little bit longer. 

Eventually, though, Harry had to get out. Debating over whether or not a suit would really be necessary, he finally decided he would just change into one if Merlin called for him. Instead, he put on a soft cardigan and slacks, heading downstairs to find Eggsy as he usually did: with water boiling and him trying to fill the silence.

In the time Harry took, Eggsy cleaned up the living room they had so hurriedly abandoned the previous night, folding up his discarded sweater and turning out the lights. In the process, he found the photo album his mother had given him the day before fallen and open on the ground. Frowning, he set it back on the cushions more carefully, resolving to find something better to do with it after breakfast was sorted out.

His coffee finished up as he was dropping bread in the toaster, Uptown Funk pumping through the phone in his back pocket, Eggsy humming along. When he heard Harry, he turned around and flashed a smile in greeting before going back to what he was doing, pulling down a mug.

Harry moved around him, getting down his own mug and hunting down a teabag. He was getting low; he'd have to go to the shops soon, maybe even take Eggsy with him to see if he wanted anything as well. "I was thinking," he began, dunking the tea bag in the water and waiting for it to steep, "that we might go see your mother for New Year's. If you'd be okay with that," he added. 

Eggsy paused in the middle of pouring creamer, thrown off guard by the question. He didn't have specific objections to that, but he hadn't thought it through either. His mother  _ was  _ getting antsy at not seeing Harry around with him, there were only so many times he could say “business trip” before she got upset. But then again, he wasn't entirely sure how she would feel seeing them together. They certainly weren't a loving newlywed couple, but Michelle knew that was the case. "Yeah, I think mum would like that,” Eggsy nodded, putting the creamer away and taking a sip as he leaned on the counter.

Harry nodded back, fixing up his tea the way he liked it before leaning on the fridge, facing Eggsy. He sipped at it, putting off the question he needed to ask, but didn't want to. Eventually, when he'd drained nearly half his mug, he cleared his throat. "Do you regret last night?" He stared down at the cup clutched in his hands instead of looking at Eggsy.

In the middle of a sip of coffee, Eggsy swallowed a little too fast and burned his tongue as his eyebrows raised in confusion. "Course not," he said, frowning. "Why would I?"

Well... at least he sounded sincere. "I don't know," Harry muttered into the lip of his mug. "I was just making sure." He busied himself drinking down the rest of it so he didn't have to say anything else. 

Come to think of it, Harry wasn't really looking at him much, was he? Eggsy liked to think he knew enough about Harry to recognize a tick he exhibited when he was feeling awkward, and that only served to worsen his confusion. What had he missed? 

"...do you?" Eggsy asked, lowering the cup in his hands and continuing to frown in his direction, even though Harry wasn't meeting his eyes.

Harry paused to consider that. Logically, he thought, there wasn't any reason to. They were married, Eggsy had been willing, and things had been building between them anyway; it was really just the inevitable outcome. But the image of him sleeping stuck in Harry’s head and he sighed, lowering the mug. "I don't know," he admitted. 

Well, that wasn't the answer Eggsy wanted to hear at all. He wasn't stupid, wasn't the type to think sex would solve all their problems and make it better between them, but he had thought they’d both had fun, and he knew he was good at it. What the fuck went wrong? His frown left his face as well, leaving a neutral expression, the good mood he'd started the day with ebbing away at three little words. 

"Alright," Eggsy said with a shrug, dropping his mug in the sink, still half full. "We don't gotta do it again." Much as  _ that  _ would suck for him, a sexless marriage on top of loveless.

Brow furrowing, Harry set his mug over on the counter, running a hand through his hair. "I want it to happen again," he said after a moment's pause, finally looking over at Eggsy. And that, he thought, was exactly the problem. He'd never needed things like that before, people like that before. Even when he was with Hannah, sex had been more about having a kid than the act itself. But it wasn't that way with Eggsy. He didn't want a kid out of it, he wanted Eggsy sighing his name, pulling him close, waking up next to him with the lingering smell of sex on him. It confused the hell out of him, if Harry was being honest with himself.

That only served to confuse Eggsy further, pulling the frown back onto his face, his eyebrows knitting together and eyes narrowing. How could Harry possibly want it to happen again and also regret it? That just didn't make sense. 

Eggsy rubbed at his head. He had really just wanted to hold onto the post-coital good mood, why was that so hard? "Okay," he said slowly, deciding he just didn't need the headache of trying to figure out Harry's odd train of thought. "So do I,” he said simply, figuring he'd just be honest and let Harry do what he would with that information. 

"I'm sorry," Harry sighed, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts. "I want it to happen again, but I don't know  _ why _ I want it to happen again, and it's all just... rather frustrating." He didn't expect Eggsy to know what was going on with him, but he didn't want to completely leave him in the dark about it either, scrambling to try and figure out what he was thinking. Harry had done enough of that in the first few weeks of their marriage, and it had only served to make things awkward. 

They really did view this differently, apparently. Eggsy's frown left him, his head tilted as he looked at Harry. "Okay," he said again, visibly less closed off than he'd been before. He appreciated the effort in communicating, something he knew wasn't Harry's strongest suit when it came to emotions. "That's alright, I'd say we got time for you to figure it out," he said with another shrug, half his mouth pulling up in a grin, albeit one that didn't fully reach his eyes. 

Eggsy's half-smile relaxed Harry somewhat, assured him that he hadn't completely ruined anything, at least. "Alright," he conceded, more than done with discussing how he felt. It was disquieting enough being unsure of himself, but sharing that with someone else? That was far worse. 

Appetite gone, Eggsy really had no call to stay, but he walked up to Harry before leaving, stepping up to him. He cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He half-smiled again and dropped his hand, turning to leave the kitchen and return to his nest in the living room.

Harry was a bit taken aback by the kiss. It wasn't usually Eggsy initiating anything, and he forced himself not to resist being pulled down to his level. The kiss was altogether too brief, but he didn't need to go further, not then. 

As Eggsy turned to leave the kitchen, Harry went about fixing himself breakfast, something simple that morning as he didn't have much of an appetite after their conversation. "I've got to get to the shops," he muttered to himself as he rooted through the pantry for something that looked appealing.

Eggsy was too far off to hear him, settling down with his legs stretched out on the cushions, phone in hand. May as well send a message to his mother, let her know that they were thinking of New Year’s. Especially before he forgot, which was a real possibility.

Harry finally just settled on toast, not wanting to hunt down something more elaborate. "Any interest in going shopping?" he called over to Eggsy as he waited for the bread to heat up. "Or would you rather stay here?" 

As soon as he recognized he was being spoken to, Eggsy’s head popped up above the back of the couch to look at him as he nodded. "Any chance to get out of here, bruv, I'm in," he laughed lightly.

"Just give me a chance to eat, and we can go," Harry said, gulping down the last of his tea right as his toast popped up. He didn't take long to eat despite his missing appetite, and soon he was headed towards the door, plucking the keys from their hook. "Car or cab?" he asked, holding them up.

Eggsy hoisted himself up, ruffling his hair as he walked over to Harry, grinning and eyeing the keys. "I think you know the answer to that," he hummed, holding out his hand.

Only narrowing resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry handed the keys over and donned his jacket before stepping outside. He locked the house up before making his way to the car, slipping into the passenger seat, and settling in. 

Grabbing his own coat and tugging it on, Eggsy stepped out into the cold air, shoulders immediately bunching to try and protect himself from the wind that was blowing some of the fallen snow up into his face. He gratefully hopped in the driver's seat, starting the car up to warm it, and spoke as he looked up to Harry while buckling in his seat belt, smiling and clearly pleased to be leaving the house. "Which one am I going to?"

Harry mentally tried to list everything they needed, but he gave up. He'd just stroll through the aisles and pick up things he thought they needed. "The one on 5th,” he decided.

"Whatever you say, guv," Eggsy hummed, turning up the heat and pulling out into the street. He was much better at driving Harry's car now, much less intimidated by it, and with all the reckless driving he had done recently (did Harry know about that? Eggsy couldn't remember telling him...) he didn't have much of an urge to speed and do some of what he would call “real driving.” 

They got to the shop in one piece, and Eggsy hopped out once he had carefully parked, shoving his hands into his pockets with bunched shoulders again, waiting for Harry to get out of the car.

Harry unfolded himself out of the car, relieved to find that Eggsy wasn’t inclined to drive like a madman. He made it to the door first, sweeping it open and holding it for Eggsy, appreciating the blast of warmth that came with it.

Eggsy stepped through the doors and to the side for Harry to follow after, shaking his arms to get rid of the chill and appreciate the warmth. Grabbing a cart, Eggsy propped one heel on the bottom ridge and scooted himself over on the wheels, standing by Harry’s side with a vague half-smile as he looked to him to lead the way.

Raising an eyebrow at the rather childish way Eggsy was pushing himself along with the cart, Harry just rolled his eyes skyward and headed down the first aisle, scanning for anything he thought they might need. He realized he probably should have made a list when he found himself just standing in front of the vanilla extract, desperately trying to recall whether he'd actually bought another bottle the last time he'd thought to himself 'I might need this' or whether he had just thought about it and not followed through. 

Eggsy followed along, bored but contented. He didn't say much outside of the occasional 'you got plenty of that,' or 'what about this?' perfectly fine in leaning on the cart as he walked it around and looked at the shelves stocked full of things he didn't really want. Now and again, as his mind was free to wander, he thought back to the previous night, finding that a particularly good topic to whittle away time mulling over. 

Some part of Eggsy was vaguely trying to recall something that might have been indicative of Harry's odd change in mood that morning, but he didn't want to torture himself too much with that. He snuck a few glances at Harry here and there when his back was turned and twisted his ring around his finger idly as he briefly abandoned him and the cart to grab his own coffee refill (and toaster pastries, sue him).

"Right, that's everything," Harry muttered, angling over towards the registers. He paid for it all and loaded the bags into the cart so they could bring it out to the car.

As bored as Eggsy had been doing nothing in the store, he wrinkled his nose as they got back to the car, disappointed at being done so quickly. Still, it wasn't the end of the world, going home to kill the day. God, he was restless.

Eggsy helped load up some of the bags before slipping back into the driver’s seat and drumming his fingers on the wheel. 

Harry transferred the rest of the bags to the car, pausing before he got back in. "Take us where you want to go," he said to Eggsy, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the headrest. "We didn't get anything that has to be back at the house immediately, so..." he trailed off, shrugging.

Eggsy glanced at him, his hands resting on the wheel. Where he wanted to go? That was nearly suspiciously open ended. Harry had never let him do that before with him in the car, how would he know he wasn't about to be driven to the shittiest corner of London, or if he wouldn't stop till they hit Wales or Scotland? If Eggsy had his way, he might have. Getting in the car and just driving sounded very appealing after weeks of anger and nothingness.

But Eggsy said nothing, just slowly pulled out of the parking lot and made a left. He really fancied a stretch of his legs, a destination like a shop or a bar or something sounded supremely unappealing at the moment. It wasn't a destination he wanted, it was a journey. 

Thankfully, it being the day after Christmas and gloomy out, most people were in the major shops returning things or staying home, which meant his choice was probably empty. Assured by the day, nearly guaranteed by the weather. 

Eggsy pulled into a snow-covered lot, rolling in as the second car there, though the first had its own coating of snow, so its owner might not even have been present. Zipping up his coat and wishing he had a hat or gloves, Eggsy climbed out of the car, feet crunching against the asphalt as he took a few steps forward before turning back to look at Harry. 

They were facing a simple walkway leading away from them, cutting between tall and thick trees, just far enough away that traffic noises and city sounds were muffled. 

Harry didn't open his eyes until they rolled to a halt, the many turns they’d made enough to throw off his internal compass and leave him utterly surprised when he did blink them open. Glancing around, he realized he didn't know exactly where they were even now, not that he much cared. He had given Eggsy complete freedom, after all. Thinking of Eggsy, he spotted him already standing outside, turned back to look at him.

Harry got out of the car as well, double-checking the locks just to be sure before making his way over to him, slipping on the gloves that had been tucked in his pockets as he walked. "What's this?"

"Path I used to go to when I had to take out Dais," Eggsy said by way of explanation, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorta outta the way. I've just been itching to be moving and out of the house. So here we are." 

That seemed as good an explanation as any, and Harry nodded, headed towards the beginning of the path. "Shall we?" 

"Please," Eggsy agreed, hurrying eagerly forward to stride alongside him, sighing contentedly as they started up the trail.

Harry kept their pace slow, seeing no need to rush. They had a few hours until the sun even started sinking and besides, the day was cloudy so it wasn't like they  _ needed _ the sun. It was a nice little path, one he'd never been to but was enjoying nonetheless. 

Eggsy was content, pleased to be out and aimless while still having some vague purpose, and honestly, he was also happy Harry was there with him. It wouldn't have been entirely the same by himself. 

After several minutes ticked by, Eggsy glanced up at him, humming once before speaking. "Why don't you celebrate Christmas?" he asked slowly. His eyes returned to the path ahead of them as he spoke to let Harry answer without eyes glued to his face.

The question caught Harry off-guard and he stumbled a step, unprepared for it. He cleared his throat to cover his little slip, catching back up to Eggsy with a few quick steps. "I'm not altogether fond of the memories associated with the season," he muttered. 

That made sense, and was sort of what Eggsy was thinking had been the reason. He nodded slowly, still looking straight ahead. "Can you tell me why?" His tone was nonchalant, not pressing though he did obviously want to know.

There wasn't really a good reason to keep something like that from Eggsy, Harry figured. He shrugged one shoulder, keeping his own eyes straight ahead. "It was around that time when my wife left me," he admitted. 

Eggsy was quiet as he let that sink in. Harry had been married once before. He… hadn’t known that. It was something he felt like he should have an adverse reaction to, that he should have insisted that Harry was keeping something important from him. Somehow, Eggsy just didn't feel. He didn't blame Harry much. Something like that would be unimaginably painful, Eggsy thought. That was a story he definitely wanted to hear the entirety of. "...that would do it," he conceded, putting away that bit of information for later.

"You don't seem to have a great love for it either," Harry prompted quietly, willing to recede back into silence should Eggsy choose not to share what his own distaste stemmed from. He hadn't seemed too put off at learning that he had a former spouse, but he hadn't seemed too anything-else about it, either. 

A few seconds of silence ticked by before Eggsy replied, voice just as soft as Harry's had been. "Was Christmas Eve when the uniforms came to say dad wasn't coming home. I was five." He sounded quite unaffected, much as his sullen mood the past few weeks would serve to contradict.

Harry cast a swift glance over at him before turning his head back to watch where he was going. "It sounds like we both have a pretty good reason to harbor our share of resentment," he said after a moment. 

"I'd say so," Eggsy said with a light snort, and he looked up at Harry with a small smile, his shoulders bunching again against a sudden cold wind. 

"I just wanted to know more about you," Eggsy said as he continued down the path with him. And he certainly did. A spouse he wasn't previously aware of definitely counted as something more about him. Part of him wanted to throw question after question at Harry about it, but he refrained. After all, he was married to Harry (though maybe he should start adding “for now” to that) and there would be time enough for questions later.

Harry had to admit he was equally as curious about Eggsy. They were married, yes, but they were still pretty close to strangers when it came to knowing about their pasts and where they had come from. But taking meant giving, and Harry didn't know how much he wanted to reveal. "Her name was Hannah," he said eventually. That at least he was comfortable with. "She called yesterday, actually."

Harry and Hannah Hart. That was a lot of H's. Eggsy removed his hand from his pocket and let it hit Harry's side, wanting to take his hand but also let him decline without it being awkward. "To say happy Christmas, I guess. On good terms then, yeah?"

Taking the hint, Harry wrapped his gloved hand around Eggsy's, twining their fingers together. "More  _ her _ terms than good terms," Harry sighed. "I don't blame her, though."

The glove was warm even on the outside, and Eggsy held onto it, grateful for that and the physical comfort it granted. "Why’s that?" he asked, letting Harry interpret that as he would.

"I couldn't give her what she wanted," Harry stated, choosing not to elaborate further. That conversation was definitely not one he wanted to be having right then, no matter how curious Eggsy might be. 

Eggsy knew enough to recognize an end-of-conversation-tone and let the topic drop, lightly squeezing his hand once as his only response.

There wasn't much to ask about Eggsy's revelation, not that Harry would have pressed even if there had been. The boy's father had died. Clear-cut, that. Eggsy had obviously had a good relationship with him, or the loss wouldn't have affected him as much as it did. That, or it was the hell Eggsy’s life had become afterwards that really did it in for the holiday. 

This silence was a little weirder than the first, but Eggsy wasn't much concerned. He had anticipated it, knowing Harry was reluctant to tell him things. But that was alright, he could get things bit by bit. He had quite a lot to think about. 

Harry had already been married once. That didn't bode wonderfully. Eggsy still had a million questions, and about everything. But still, he walked forward in silence, willing it all to wash off of him. He really didn't want to stew in his feelings anymore. 

Harry absently brushed his thumb over Eggsy's knuckles, consumed by his own thoughts. It was the same disturbing phenomenon as earlier. He  _ wanted  _ Eggsy to know about Hannah, wanted him to know more about Harry and, strangest of all, wanted Eggsy to accept him even with all that. What was going on? Approval wasn't something he sought (especially not from men half his age), it was something he gave.

"How long is this path, anyways?" Harry asked, breaking the silence. Anything to save himself from his own head.

"Ain't much longer," Eggsy answered with half a shrug. "Was another branch back there that would have taken an extra loop. I used to go around it lots of times, we should be coming round the last bend in a mo’." He looked up at Harry's face for the first time in awhile. It was all well and good they were about done; it was probably time to head home.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Harry breathed in deeply through his nose, the crisp air stinging his lungs. The walk had been... not exactly pleasant, but beneficial. They had had solitude and a chance to talk some things out, even if it wasn't much. A little was still better than nothing.

Eggsy felt much the same, with a little added bonus of enjoying being out of the house for a bit.

When they rounded the final bend and the car came into view, Eggsy felt a tugging in his stomach, making him want to stay, put going home off just a little bit longer. He stopped them at the end of the walkway before the parking lot with the hand he still had holding Harry's, and looked into his face with the corner of his mouth twitching up in a small smile. With the soft natural lighting of the cloudy day and the backdrop of the trees with snow clinging to their branches, the brightness contrasting his dark coat and hair, it was easy to think how handsome his husband was. For all the secrecy and buried information Eggsy probably still didn’t know about, he really could have done so much worse in a random spouse.

"Can I kiss you?" Eggsy asked with his small smile, his head tilted.

They had nearly wandered to the mouth of the path when Harry felt himself being tugged to a halt. He stopped, turning to glance at Eggsy curiously, noting the way his cheeks and the tip of his nose were tinged with red, contrasting with his otherwise pale skin and fair hair. He truly was breathtaking sometimes. With thoughts along those veins running through his head, he almost missed it when Eggsy spoke, tuning in just in time to catch the question.

His brow furrowed slightly. "Of course you can, Eggsy. You don't have to ask." 

"Sometimes, it's nice to ask," Eggsy said as his smile twitched again. Letting go of his hand, he brought up his own to gently cup the side of his face as he had done several times before, thumb stroking over his cheekbone once as he looked into his warm brown eyes. 

After a short pause, Eggsy was tilting his head and leaning up the short distance to press their lips together in a kiss that was softer than he had intended. He lingered, not pulling back quite yet.

Harry's eyes half closed as he leaned into the warmth of Eggsy's palms. Once their lips met, he tilted his head forward slightly so Eggsy could stand back on flat feet, not have to stretch to reach for him. His arms circled around his waist, hands coming to rest in the small of Eggsy’s back as their kiss grew longer than he had expected it to be. 

Eggsy almost didn't want to pull away at all. It was nice just to kiss Harry and feel his arms around him in the cold, and he was half-tempted to pull him by his coat and open his mouth for a deeper kiss, wanting to be left breathless and warm. But he refrained, pulling back as soon as the thought occurred, breaking the kiss (but pressing another very short one to his lips even as he was pulling away) and looking at him with a half-grin this time. Brushing his cheek one last time, he withdrew his hand and started off without another word, searching for the keys in his pants pocket.

The warmth from Eggsy's body pulled away all too soon, making Harry shiver slightly. Kissing Eggsy he could do guilt-free. And he genuinely enjoyed doing it, much as that surprised him. Perhaps, he thought as he started walking back to the car, he should just stop having expectations when it came to Eggsy, seeing as most of them were ruined anyways. He slid back into the passenger seat wordlessly, tugging the door closed behind him. 

Eggsy started up the car and pulled out of the lot again. He was quiet as he drove back to the house, but in a good mood. He was easy to please, after all, and some time away from the house as well as kisses were enough to settle him back into a neutral sort of happiness. As he drove, he tapped his fingers to the song playing quietly on the radio.

Once they reached the house and Eggsy had killed the engine, Harry sat in the seat a little bit longer, not looking forward to leaving the cocoon of warmth even just for long enough to grab the groceries and go inside. But it wasn't like he could sit in there all day and, with a sigh, he got out, opened up the trunk, and grabbed as many bags as he could carry, hauling them inside.

Eggsy followed after him, sharing his reluctance to leave the warmth. He grabbed what Harry couldn't and carried them inside, moving quickly because after all that time in the cold, he was quite ready for warmth. A fire would have been great. Fire and blankets. He took the groceries to the countertop slowly once he made it in, kicking off his shoes.

Harry was already set up unpacking the bags he'd brought in, squirreling things away to their proper homes. "Would you mind terribly starting up a fire?" he asked, sticking his new set of teabags in the cabinet. "I'll finish all this." 

"No problem," Eggsy said happily, abandoning the bags to hurry over and grab a startup log. The fire wasn't even lit yet and it was calling his name, spurring him to quickly light it up and crouch by it, eagerly waiting for the heat.

It didn't take much longer for Harry to get everything put away, including the bags. He wandered into the sitting room, realizing that they had never returned the furniture to its normal state. He set about correcting that, dragging the coffee table and the armchair back to their regular positions before collapsing into the chair and waiting for the fire to get built up enough to do some good.

Once he started to get warm, Eggsy shed his jacket and flung it off to the side uncaringly, lying down and stretching out in front of the fireplace on his back like a cat.

Harry had been expecting Eggsy to take a spot on the sofa, and he snorted lightly when he saw him stretching out on the floor instead. "Comfortable down there?" he asked, though it didn't sound very much like a question. 

"Very," Eggsy hummed smugly, perfectly content to lazily and sleepily lie down and soak up the warmth. "Plenty of room down here," he teased, twisting his head and curling his body enough to look over at Harry and shoot him a grin

Harry's eyes flicked back and forth between Eggsy and the fire before he sighed and heaved himself up from the armchair. "If I get stuck down there, I'm blaming you," he warned him, lowering himself to the carpet next to him. He propped his arms up behind his head, soaking in the warmth from the fire now that he was so much closer. 

"What was that you said, passing blame ain't an attractive quality?" Eggsy snickered with a smirk as he glanced over at him, wiggling back to lying flat on his back. He could waste quite a lot of time like this, warm and happy, no thoughts weighing him down.

"Passing blame is completely acceptable in certain situations," Harry retorted, eyes drifting closed. "Such as this one, where it would clearly be all your fault."

"I just gave you an invitation, you didn't have to accept, you hypocrite," Eggsy chuckled.

One of Harry's eyebrows arched upwards, whether or not Eggsy could even see the expression. "You expected me to pass up something like this? It's fucking warm down here." 

"That’s why  _ I’m  _ down here, bruv." Although at those words, Eggsy hopped up in a quick rocking motion, going over to the couch and swiping a blanket to bring back and envelope himself in. And he might have settled in a little bit closer to Harry. Body heat and all. "I like the cold, but I like fires better."

One of Harry's eyes cracked open as Eggsy moved off, watching him as he grabbed the blanket, a reassurance that he wasn't just abandoning Harry here on the living room floor. The corner of the blanket tickled him a bit as Eggsy settled back in, and his lips quirked up in a small smile. "First one I've had in a long time." 

"What?" Eggsy twisted about to look at him better, blinking in surprise. "You lived in this big old house all by yourself and never lit fires? I used to sit by the radiator imagining a proper fireplace. Younger me would’ve been so offended,” he grinned, nudging Harry playfully.

Harry shrugged as he best he could with his back pressed against the floor. "It seemed a little useless to try and warm the whole house just for me. I had blankets," he said, nodding towards the one Eggsy was currently wrapped up in. 

"As wrong as you were, I'm gonna be making fires. And hogging your blankets." And to make the point, Eggsy snuggled himself into the blanket a bit more.

Harry opened his eyes specifically so he could roll them. "Then I suppose I'll just have to get back by hogging the sheets."

"That's just cruel, you want me to be cold." Eggsy smirked, catching the eyeroll and poking him in the side for it.

Running a meaningful eye over Eggsy's very bundled up body and then flicking his gaze to the fire, Harry snorted. "Cold, right. I'm sure you're absolutely freezing."

"You don't know me," he said, burying his head back in the blanket. This long by the fire, wrapped in a blanket, he was starting to get pretty warm actually. But hell if he was disentangling, especially after that.

Harry sat up, flipping one leg over Eggsy, rolling until he was hovering over him, threatening to lie on top of him. "I guess I should warm you up, then, shouldn't I?" 

Feeling the shifting on top of him, Eggsy popped his head out of the blankets again to look up at him, eyes slightly narrowed in defiance. His cheeks were almost pink because of the heat but he didn't answer, huffily silent.

As soon as Harry saw Eggsy's head pop out of the blanket, a smile spread over Harry’s face. Without further ado, he let himself collapse on top of him, forehead resting on the floor next to Eggsy's ear. "Warm yet?" he asked, voice slightly muffled by the carpet. 

Eggsy's huffy expression melted to amused surprise when Harry actually flopped on top of him, a light laugh shaking them both. "You know, I think this might do it," he grinned, turning his head to look at Harry better.

Harry felt Eggsy's laugh rumble through his own chest and it prompted his smile to grow wider. "Good, that  _ was  _ the intent," he teased.

"Guess you're stuck here now. Can't let me freeze." Eggsy nodded seriously, wiggling his arms trapped beneath him. 

"Oh, I don't know. I'm sure I could use an Eggsy-sized ice block somehow," Harry mused, picking his head up so he was actually looking down at Eggsy. 

"You absolutely could not," Eggsy huffed, putting on a sulk as he looked up at him. "What you need is a thawed Eggsy. And you're doing an ace job with that, so let's stick with what we know."

Harry only gave him a skeptical look. "Really? What do I need a thawed Eggsy for?" he asked. 

"A thawed Eggsy's good for a lotta things. Cooking, can't do that frozen. Entertaining, I make you smile sometimes, and that'd be hard if I'm a block of ice. Not impossible, though, I'm sure it would be amusing," he grinned, wiggling again to free one of his arms and pull the (rather warm) blanket down from his face and neck and onto his chest instead. "I’m sure you could think of other stuff," he added with a hum.

Amused by Eggsy's rather genuine attempt to come up with reasons he was useful, Harry scooted backwards a bit, resting his chin on Eggsy's chest so he could see his face without having to strain his neck upwards. "Mmmm," he mmmed once Eggsy had stopped to adjust his blanket. "You give my car a reason to still be my car," he added. 

"Yeah, true," Eggsy nodded, unable to stop the grin that spread over his face. "And I take good care of it. Washed inside and out, long drives, even took her on a scenic tour of the countryside once when you was gone. Lovely date. I right spoil your car," Eggsy snickered as he finished.

"Should I be worried you're going to leave me for my Lamborghini?" Harry asked, eyebrows raising a playful inch.

"Course not," Eggsy said, his free arm patting Harry's shoulder sympathetically. "Car's open minded, she said she'd share."

Harry's eyes flashed, and he lifted his head back up, moving so that he was hovering over Eggsy again. "The car might share, but I don't," he said, voice low and serious. 

"I know," Eggsy said, his head tilting a little as he smiled lightly up at him. "Only seen it once, but I know there's possessiveness in there." His smile turned to a smirk, one eyebrow quirking upwards as his eyes roamed over Harry’s face for a moment before continuing. "Sort of makes me want to tease it out of you."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "And just how would you do that, exactly?" he asked, voice closer to a growl than anything.

"Working you up by saying I'm in a relationship with your car seems to be working," Eggsy hummed, seemingly unaffected by the tone (even if he did wiggle a little).

"Oh, good. For a moment there, I thought I might have to actually be jealous," Harry said, looking down at him rather fondly.

"Much as I'd like to see what a jealous Harry looks like, I think you're covered," Eggsy said, lips pressed together and half of his mouth pulling up in a smile. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't think it would be quite as entertaining as you think," he retorted.

"Who knows," Eggsy hummed, shifting himself a bit to lean upwards toward him. "I'll find out eventually."

That was all it took for Harry's eyes to sharpen. "And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked suspiciously. 

Eggsy rolled his eyes this time and settled for kissing Harry's cheek before flopping back flat on the floor. "Means I ain't going anywhere, so odds are good it'll happen at some point."

Harry leaned down with him until his lips were hovering just above Eggsy's. "Well, if it does, I suppose I'll just have to remind you that you are Mr. Unwin- _ Hart _ ."

With Harry so close and both his lips and his body pressing down on him, the temptation to push up and kiss him was great, but Eggsy resisted for now, just looking up at him with the perpetual almost-smile on his lips. "I guess you will, reminders can't hurt."

Harry considered him for a moment, eyes running languidly over Eggsy's lips, tracing every inch of them before dragging back up to his eyes. "No," he conceded. "They certainly can't."

Eggsy clenched his jaw as his left eyebrow quirked up again. Now that wasn't fair, clearly looking at his lips, staying close, but doing nothing. Eggsy had initiated the last several kisses; he wanted Harry to do this one on principle, dammit. Humming a low sound as his only response, Eggsy let his free hand idly trace Harry's arm as he looked up at him.

"Well, then, since you think they can't hurt," Harry said, a roughness in his voice that hadn't been there before, "shall I remind you?" He lowered his lips, but not to Eggsy's, placing them instead on his neck. 

Fuck the marks he'd sucked into his skin the previous night, Harry wasn't going for that now. He let his teeth bite into the junction of Eggsy’s neck and shoulder, not enough to hurt, certainly not enough to draw blood, but enough that there would be a definitive mark when he pulled away. 

Even though it didn't quite hurt, the unexpected sharpness on his neck was enough to make Eggsy gasp in surprise. The hand on Harry’s arm stopped its tracing and lightly grabbed onto him instead, blinking at the ceiling with parted lips. He had prepared himself for a kiss, not a bite, but damn, this... this actually felt good, too. He had seen the light pink markings standing out against his pale skin in the mirror earlier, but he was sure this one would show too, an angrier, more prominent red. And that alone made his cock twitch in his pants.

All of that passed in a few seconds, leaving Eggsy grinning as soon as Harry pulled back from his neck.

Harry laved his tongue once over the bite mark, feeling Eggsy's grip on him tighten. He moved back until he could see him again, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. "I think that should do it," he said, a touch smugly. 

Eggsy slowly shook his head, smirking with his lips pressed together. Looking at him once he'd stopped, he couldn't keep the spark of amusement from his eyes. "I think  _ that _ 'll remind me and everyone else that I'm yours, eh?"

Brushing his fingers over the bite, Harry glanced at it thoughtfully. "It will probably have faded by the time we go to your mother's," he said absently, almost as if he was talking more to himself than to Eggsy. 

Eggsy’s head tilted a bit to expose his neck, the fingers nice over the smarting skin. "Almost makes me want to have you put another one on before then," he answered, snickering internally at the thought. His mother certainly wouldn't dispute Harry's being real at  _ that _ .

Harry snorted. "That could be arranged, I'm sure, but I'd rather not have your mother thinking about what we were up to to put that mark there," he said, amusement clear in his voice. 

"We're married, who cares." Eggsy did snicker this time, still mostly teasing. Although, honestly, his mother had seen worse. It would only be for Harry's sake that he didn't go for it.

Harry hummed, returning his mouth to Eggsy's neck. The way he still had it tilted, practically presenting it to him, was too tempting to resist. He didn't bite again, just started a slow trail of kisses, breathing in the scent of him. 

His eyes slid shut as Harry returned to his neck, a dull, background sort of pleasure washing through him. This was so nice, lying with Harry on top of him next to a fire, and so unexpected. It felt like Harry was acclimating to him, getting used to being with him and touching him and being touched in return. That was almost dangerous, really. The more he grew to like it, to like Harry, the worse off he would be during the stretches without him. Hell, next time, he may specifically  _ miss  _ him. He probably would now, too.

The lack of response gave Harry a slight twinge of anxiety, but he shoved it down, not letting himself get too worried. He broke away from his neck just slightly, skimming his lips over his jaw instead. "What are you thinking about?" he murmured quietly, eyes closed, mouth close to Eggsy’s ear. 

Despite the heat he was wrapped so cozily in, the sound of Harry's wonderful voice quiet and right by his ear sent a shiver down Eggsy’s spine, the lips on his jaw pulling a soft appreciative hum from him. His hand was touching Harry’s back now, gently rubbing back and forth as he answered. "You," he started simply, deciding to just be truthful. "How quick I've come to really like you."

Harry huffed out a bit of a laugh, slowly drawing back to look down at Eggsy, gaze softening when their eyes met. The heat and weight of his hand suddenly seemed very, very real, and he found anything he wanted to say stuck in his throat. Instead of attempting to speak, which he was fairly sure would end with no actual speech being produced, he just leaned in and kissed him gently. 

Eggsy had only smiled at him with eyebrows raised innocently and amusement in his eyes, as if they teased 'what, you asked!' He did finally get that kiss though, and he pressed up into it, content.

After a second, Harry ended the kiss, one eyebrow arching up. "Really like me, is it? Kingsman and all?" 

"Oh fuck, I forgot you was a secret agent out all hours of the night, risking your neck saving the world, how stupid of me." Eggsy smirked and nudged him, holding back a light laugh. "Kingsman and all."

"Not all hours of the night," Harry protested playfully. "After all, I'm here now, aren't I?" Fate it seemed, or more likely Merlin, had somehow managed it so he got another day off. Nice of him. 

"Miracle, that," Eggsy grinned, it taking till then for it to dawn on him that yes, Harry  _ wasn’t  _ out today, and there wasn't any real reason for it, though he was quite appreciative of that fact. It had been a nice day thus far with him.

It was at that moment, just as he was leaning in to kiss Eggsy again, that Harry's comms activated. 

Merlin's voice crackled to life in his ear. "Galahad, you're needed at HQ. It's urgent."

Sighing, Harry reluctantly peeled himself away, getting to his feet. "I guess we shouldn't have mentioned it," he muttered.

Eggsy had been leaning in as well, addicted to his kisses, but with how close they were, he too could make out the voice intruding on their moment. Despite never having this happen before, Eggsy knew what it meant. 

As Harry pushed off of him, Eggsy groaned and let his head hit the floor, annoyed and disappointed. "Speak of the devil and all."

Eventually, Eggsy sat up and got to his feet as well, keeping the blanket around his shoulders. 

Harry was already switching into business mode. Urgent never boded well for them, not with their line of work, and he would need to be ready for anything when he got there. "I don't know how long I'll be," he told Eggsy, tossing the words over his shoulder as he headed upstairs to change into his suit. "Don't wait up for me." Those last he tossed over his shoulder, disappearing into his bedroom. 

Eggsy nodded, moving himself over to plop on his cushion. 

Harry emerged moments later, fully dressed and already heading for the door. He snatched up his coat and hat on his way out to find Kingsman's cab already parked at the curb for him, engine idling. 

Eggsy was surprised at how quickly Harry got changed, casual to professional in almost no time flat. "Don't get yourself fucked up," he called when he saw him emerge again, staying out of his way so as not to interrupt whatever it was that was clearly important.

Halfway out the door, Harry paused, glancing back at Eggsy. "No promises," he said, feeling his side throb briefly. With that he was gone, shutting the door behind him and sliding into the cab.

-

It took him to headquarters where he disembarked, Merlin already waiting for him. 

"Harry," he said, and just the tone of his voice was enough to alert him that something was very, very wrong. "Go inside. The toast is waiting on you."

Harry’s heart caught in his throat. "Which agent-?"

But Merlin cut him off with a shake of his head. "I'll explain everything later, don't make them wait," he muttered, stepping off to the side.

For a moment Harry thought about contesting that, pushing him to get some details, find out what had happened, but in the end he just nodded and solemnly went to join the rest of them.

There were only two other knights actually present, one being Arthur and the other an agent only a few years younger than him, Bors. 

Harry’s glasses picked up the holograms, and he immediately went looking for the empty seat, eyes finding it a second later. Lancelot. Squaring his shoulders, he took his own chair, raising his glass with the others and draining back the brandy. He was going to need more of it when he got home.


	18. A Proposal

_ No promises. _ When the door closed, Eggsy frowned to himself. It was nice for an afternoon to forget that at any given time Harry could get completely fucked up and Eggsy would have no idea. He could get shot again, and he would have no idea. And not to say Eggsy had never been concerned, but he was getting more so every day.

Eggsy did take Harry’s advice, however. Getting pulled out meant he wasn't going to stay up and wait for him, because who knew when he would get back, and he'd had plenty of time with him that day and last night. He was also feeling rather tired, either from the soreness or the weather or the weird emotional journey he'd been on that day. 

For the first time, rather than waiting around and asking or just deciding not to, Eggsy climbed into Harry's bed, curling up on the side he’d gotten used to sleeping on while holding a pillow to his chest. It may have been a bit early, but who cared? If not sleeping, he would just be playing video games, and he was a bit tired of that for the moment. 

-

With the words “gather your proposals” still ringing in his ears, Harry slipped out of the room. He didn’t get very far before Merlin appeared, tablet in hand. "What happened to him?" he asked, pressing back against the wall, eyes sliding closed. Lancelot had been the closest friend he'd had in Kingsman besides Merlin and now... he'd been the last to know he died. Harry gritted his teeth, fighting back the urge to punch something. The most likely target was the wall, and he didn't need the split knuckles that would result from their meeting with the solid oak paneling.

"His cover was blown," Merlin admitted, sensing the tension clearly radiating from Harry. "Our extraction team didn't have time to reach him. We blew the bastards' operation to hell, afterwards."

It was a poor trade-off for James' life, but it was all they could offer him, really. 

Now Harry faced his own challenge. Where the fuck was he going to find a proposal? He'd not had to look for one in seventeen years, and his social circle had grown considerably smaller since then as he'd more firmly embedded himself in the agency. It wasn't like he had a wide pool of potential agents to choose from. There was only one glaring possibility, and he refused to entertain the idea. He wouldn't throw Eggsy into this.

With a sigh, he heaved himself off the wall, settling a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Merlin agreed.

It was still relatively early when Harry headed home, not even midnight, and his mind was churning, trying to come up with a solution other than the one he suspected he was going to be forced to take. By the time he pulled up to his door, he was no closer to finding another proposal he could put forward. 

Eggsy wasn't in the sitting room, as he'd half-expected. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom, curiosity sated as he found the younger man curled up in his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest. 

Eggsy had only been napping for an hour or two when he felt rather than heard someone enter the room. Stirring, Eggsy grumbled a bit as he woke himself up, rolling onto his back. "Mmh... Harry?" He rubbed his forehead as his eyes cracked open, barely making out the blurry figure. "...what happened..."

"A colleague of mine died," Harry said flatly, not really wanting to discuss it or the implications it brought with it. He'd rather just ignore the subject altogether and look for someone else in the morning. Someone that would cut it as a potential candidate even if he didn't necessarily think they could win. Someone that wasn't Eggsy. 

"Oh." Eggsy’s hand paused mid-rub and dropped to the side as he propped himself up a bit, forcing himself to wake up faster. "...I'm sorry, Harry." He frowned, thinking to himself. That meant someone had been killed, more likely than not. He felt bad for Harry, losing someone he knew, and bad in general that someone was dead. Not the most ideal thing to hear when you're half-asleep.

Harry just shook his head, already moving to get undressed. He didn't want to be in the suit anymore, the outfit only serving as a reminder of the news he'd received. "I didn't mean to wake you up, Eggsy. Go back to sleep," he said quietly, moving to find his pyjamas. 

Still frowning, Eggsy sunk back into the bed as soon as Harry started to get undressed. He rolled back onto his side with the pillow to his chest but kept himself awake. He was waiting for Harry to get in after him, just to know he would be close by before he let sleep take him again.

Harry slid into bed a few moments later, lying on his back so he could stare up at the ceiling. He tugged the covers up to his chest as the night was actually cold for once and let out a long, weary sigh. 

After a few minutes passed by, Eggsy let the pillow slide out of his grasp and rolled over onto his other side to face Harry. Another few seconds, and his hand hesitantly popped out of the covers under which he was cuddled and rested gently on his chest. 

Harry's hand came up to cover Eggsy's, thumb rubbing across the back of it a few times. After a bit, he slid his hand further up his arm, turning his body with it until he was facing Eggsy and his hand was cupping his cheek. 

Eggsy smiled sleepily, his thumb rubbing Harry's cheek in what was meant to be an affectionate and comforting gesture. His eyes only opened halfway, barely making out his face in the moonlight.

"I won't be around much tomorrow," Harry sighed after a moment of just letting himself be comforted. "I have to..." He broke off, not entirely sure he wanted to reveal the reason. 'I have to hang around a bunch of young men and women in order to find one worthy of becoming a Kingsman' sounded a little weird, even for him. 

It made no difference to Eggsy; he assumed it had something to do with the death, and he didn't want to pry into it too much. "Whatever you gotta do," he smiled, scooting over a bit to press their foreheads together. "I'll be here, yeah?" 

Harry leaned into the touch, letting his eyes flutter closed. "I know," he muttered, letting his hand fall away from Eggsy's face back to his own side. He waited a few heartbeats before admitting, "I have to find a recruit." 

"Recruit?" Eggsy asked, waking a bit more at the word and pulling back from him to blink curiously. "What do you mean?"

Reluctantly, Harry peeled his eyes open so he could better gauge Eggsy's reaction. "When a knight dies," he began, "the rest of us submit a proposal, someone to go through training to see who the next knight will be. I have to find someone to replace... to become the next Lancelot," he explained. 

Slowly, Eggsy’s eyes widened. It was a job opening? For Harry's spy agency? "What're the requirements?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice fairly neutral, but he couldn't help the jolt in his stomach. 

"Preferably young, athletic, intelligent, disciplined," Harry listed off, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "But I'm not proposing you."

"Why not?" Eggsy asked, sounding quite awake now and propping himself up on one of his elbows. "I'm all of that."

"Why not?" Harry snapped, levering himself into a sitting position, the covers falling away from him. "Because, if you recall, I came home in the dead of night with a bullet in my gut that you had to dig out. I'm not going to let that be you." 

"I ain't just some kid who can't handle himself," Eggsy countered, sitting up as well now, fully awake. The snapping immediately put him on the defensive, on principle more than anything, and his eyebrows pulled together as he looked at him. "I was a fucking Marine, bruv. Top marks! I'm supposed to be in the middle of that shit now." 

Harry shook his head, eyes still narrowed, glaring over at him. "But you aren't. And I'd prefer not to be the one to stick you back into it."

" _ I _ wanted to stick me back into it!" Eggsy protested, the instinct to fight back kicking in and drowning out the much more sensible 'back down'. "Right after we got married, if I could have reenlisted or some shit, I would have. I fucking thrive under shit like that. I'm going mental just sitting here day in and day out waiting for you to get home, hoping you aren't shot or god knows what else." 

Scowling, Harry shook his head again. "That would have been your choice, reenlisting. This, this would be mine. I'd be choosing to let you try and become someone whose job it is to stick themselves in dangerous situations and if you-- if something happens to you, it would be on me." 

"Unless you're the one with the gun, I'm pretty sure it's on me," Eggsy argued, shaking his head in return. "And that's just it, innit? It's a trial. I'm not gonna run off to some base of people with machine guns and get myself blown up or killed tomorrow. Who knows how it'd go, but you'd have quite a long time before you gotta worry about anything other than a cooking burn happening to me, if I even make it, that is."

Harry thought rather skeptically of the Kingsman training process, but he couldn't give anything away. Sighing, he scrubbed a hand over his face. "And this is what you want, is it?"

Eggsy looked at him with a frown, confused as to how he appeared to have gotten what he wanted. "Yeah," he said, shoulders relaxing and defiance ebbing away.

Entirely unsatisfied with the decision, Harry sighed and settled himself back on the mattress, turning to lie with his back to Eggsy. "Then I'll make you my proposal," he muttered. 

Eggsy had gotten what he wanted, yes, but he didn't feel all that good about it, not as he had hoped he would. Slowly, he lowered himself back to lie down on the bed as well, facing Harry's back as he continued frowning to himself. Maybe he should have waited for morning. His hand stretched out to touch his back gently, a sort of apology for the turn the night had taken.

To his own surprise, Harry didn't flinch at the sudden feeling of a hand against his back. The fleeting thought of 'who the hell-' was quickly answered with an 'Eggsy', and he barely even tensed up. Closing his eyes briefly, he flipped back over to face Eggsy. After all, if he was proposing him, it would be the last time they shared a bed for a long time. 

His eyes met Eggsy's searchingly. "You're sure you want this?" He guided Eggsy’s hand to the puckered scar that had taken the place of the bullet wound. "And everything that comes with it?" 

For a moment, Eggsy was silent. His eyes met Harry's and descended to the fresh scarring on his body, and the gravity of the decision fully hit him. Who could say if he would even make it to the end of the selection process, whatever that entailed? He didn't know. But if he did, he would have the same kind of life he saw reflected in Harry's. Long days with minimal sleep, minor injuries fairly frequently, the possibility for major injuries and -- as he had seen when Harry was bleeding out in the entryway -- possible death. 

But, while Eggsy took the decision seriously, he wasn't scared off by it. He wanted the chance to be active and good at something, wanted something other than video games and the inside of this house to look forward to. And, to a lesser degree, he wanted to understand Harry a little bit better.

The scars, guaranteed scars, life threatening injuries... Even with all that, he couldn't say no.  _ 'Is this what you want? Everything that comes with it?' _ "...yes, Harry," he answered quietly, meeting his eyes again.

Harry couldn't tell whether the tightening in his chest was from Eggsy's eyes gazing into his or the affirmation that he was willing to throw himself into danger, would be in the next few hours. Without really thinking about it, he wrapped his hand loosely around Eggsy's wrist, removing his hand from his side and sliding his own hand up until he could tangle their fingers together. He brought their hands to his mouth, pressing his lips to the back of Eggsy's hand. "Then I won't stop you," he promised.  

Harry's hand felt nice held loosely in his own, his lips soft on his skin, and Eggsy’s heart felt a little too tight for his ribs as something almost like guilt tugged at him. He scooted himself a little bit closer to him, biting back a sigh. "I wouldn't be staying here, I'm guessing," he said, lightly squeezing the hand he had a hold of

Harry shook his head, pillow rustling softly with his movements. "No. There's a sort of barracks you'll be staying in along with the rest of the candidates."  _ 'I'll be here by myself again,' _ he added silently, brushing his thumb over Eggsy's knuckles. A few weeks ago that thought would have been a relief, a chance to finally relax. Now, he wasn't so sure. 

"Okay," Eggsy hummed, not entirely sure how he felt about that. He didn't have a problem with being with new people, or leaving this house (that was quite a plus, actually), but he also didn't know how long he'd be gone or what it entailed, and if he had to hazard a guess, he wouldn't be particularly agreeable to most of the other people there. And he didn’t know when or if he'd even see Harry, actually. "And soon, yeah?"

"Tomorrow," Harry admitted. It would be odd, he thought, to readjust to life without Eggsy at home and still see him at work. The exact opposite of the way things had been for the past few months. Not that he would necessarily be seeing much of him -- training was pretty separate from the actual agents' work -- but any glimpse of Eggsy at headquarters would be more than he was getting now. 

Tomorrow. Somehow, Eggsy was unsurprised. Nodding his understanding, the bed suddenly felt more than comfortable now he knew it was his last night in it. He settled down into it, his eyes drifting half closed as he brought their entwined hands to his own lips, sighing as he simply leaned his head into the back of Harry’s hand. 

Harry's eyes stayed on Eggsy's face, hand warmed both by the heat of his body and the warmth of his breath. "I'm sure you've wondered about Mr. Pickle," he said, after a pause. 

Eggsy cracked open his eyes again, looking up at him questioningly. "...hm...?" The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place where he knew it.

Nodding towards the bathroom, Harry smiled slightly. "My dog. The one I had stuffed." He focused back on Eggsy. "I got him from Kingsman."

"Oh yeah." Eggsy nodded slowly, the memory of stumbling upon it coming back to him. He was so confused by it, wanting to ask but never actually doing it, he remembered. It looked old and tired -- but he couldn't think why a spy agency would be providing Harry with a dog. Seemed a bit odd, but maybe a dog was just one of a number of possible surprises he would be in for. "Wondered about it a lot when I first found it, heh."

"Yes, well, when he died I found it a little hard to let go. I was very fond of him. He'd been through quite a lot with me," Harry said carefully. 

Eggsy didn't quite understand why Harry was telling him this now, of all times. It seemed completely irrelevant, an interesting tidbit of information maybe, but an odd conversation choice. But he let it go, chalking it up to nostalgia, and filed away the information for later. Maybe that meant he'd get a dog. He'd like that. Nodding again, Eggsy let his eyes travel from Harry's eyes to his hair, over his face, and down to what he could see of his body.

At least he got a nod of acknowledgment, Harry thought, watching as Eggsy's eyes moved away from his face and over the rest of him. It would be on him to remember that when the time came. It was the closest thing to a warning he could give without spilling everything, making the chances more than unfair. 

After a few moments of thought and seeing some of Harry’s scars again, Eggsy looked back to his eyes. "Can you lie on your back for me?" he asked, voice quiet.

Perplexed by the unusual request, Harry's brow furrowed. Still, he complied, rolling over until he was stretched out on his back, head still turned to the side so he could stare at Eggsy quizzically. 

Eggsy followed after him, moving to lie on his side next to him and meld his body against Harry’s, his head resting on his shoulder, tucked under his chin, and his arm draping limply over his middle. If it was his last night there for awhile, he was going to make the most of it, especially as he likely wasn't going to get much touch.

Harry lay still for a moment, startled by the sudden onslaught of Eggsy. After a few seconds, he tilted his head slightly, pillowing his cheek on the top of Eggsy's head and moving his arm so it was draped over his back, fingers lightly brushing over his spine. "Goodnight, Eggsy," he murmured. 

Sighing, Eggsy let himself relax when it was apparent he wasn't going to be pushed off -- still a concern -- and nestled his head into him a bit more to get comfortable. "Night, Harry," he exhaled into his neck.

Harry didn't find it easy to fall asleep, and it wasn't because of the unusual weight on top of him. Eggsy was going to try and become a Kingsman. The training itself presented enough dangers, and they would only increase if he actually took Lancelot's position. He spent most of the night staring up at the ceiling, fingers tracking patterns over Eggsy's back. 

Eggsy took longer than usual to fall asleep too, the warm, fleshy surface he was lying on enough out of the ordinary to take awhile to get fully used to. Once he did, he slept the whole night through, his body sticking close to Harry's and arm eventually tightening around him much like it did on his pillow at night. 

Eventually, Harry did drift off, breathing slowing to match Eggsy's after he fell asleep, making it easier for him to close his own eyes. This was, after all, due to Eggsy's request. He obviously wanted this, and denying him it would only serve to make him bitter. Harry didn't want to live with a resentful husband. He did, however, want his husband to live. 

Eggsy woke slowly, his eyes shutting more tightly against consciousness as he grumbled and reburied his face into the warmth he had forgotten in his sleepiness was Harry's shoulder.

Awoken by movement, Harry peeled his eyes open to find Eggsy burrowing into his shoulder, and he smiled down at him fondly, stroking his hand down his back. "Awake, I see." 

"Against my will," Eggsy grumbled. The hand on his back was soothing, pulling a smile to his lips as his head unburied itself so he could look up at him with sleepy eyes. "Mmm, good morning," he said, rolling off of him enough to just rest his hand on his chest, most of his weight off of him.

Lips twitching up in a small smirk at both Eggsy's sleepy grin and sleep-mussed hair, Harry moved to run his fingers through it, attempting to tame it somewhat. "Good morning, Eggsy," he said softly, hand stopping at the nape of his neck. 

The hand in his hair and on his neck combined with the voice near his ear was making it quite difficult for Eggsy to keep awake. "Mm... Always liked how you say my name," he mused sleepily, rubbing Harry’s chest once before abandoning it to rub at his face to try and wake himself up some more. "Ain't too late, is it?"

Harry shook his head, dropping his hand in favor of propping himself up on his elbows. "We have till nine tonight," he assured him. "Arthur likes to give us a suitable amount of time to find someone, but this at least gives you time to cancel our plans with your mother." 

"Ah, fuck," Eggsy sighed, pushing his forehead with both heels of his palms, groaning in annoyance. His mother. He had forgotten about that. He'd have to cancel New Year’s, come up with some excuse for that and the rest of it. Wonderful. She wasn't going to be pleased.

"Unless," Harry said, eyes sparking as an idea suddenly came to him, “you wanted to move the visit up to today?" His head tilted to the side slightly, eyes narrowed in thought. They would still have to come up with an excuse as to why she wouldn't be able to contact Eggsy for the next few months, but at least they could do it in person. 

Quizzically, Eggsy lowered his hands to glance over at him. He had no problems with that, his mother would love it, and with plenty of time it was perfectly possible, but it didn't seem like something Harry would be that enthused for. "You'd do that? Mum would be happy for a visit," he conceded, pushing himself to sit upright. 

Harry nodded. He wasn't looking forward to it, exactly, but he figured he should at least try and endear himself to Eggsy's mother, considering how little of him she'd seen. 

"She'd be less likely to kill me if we go see her to tell her we can't see her. I think it's a good idea." Deciding to give in to sudden urges as he felt them that day, Eggsy reached out and touched Harry's hair, running his fingers through the longer locks on top before pulling away. "Mind if I use your shower?" he asked as he detangled himself from the bedding and stood up.

"You're welcome to it," Harry murmured, eyes half-closing at the sensation of Eggsy's fingers sliding through his hair. "Just don't take too long. I should probably look presentable for your mother, too" he added with a chuckle. 

"You can join me," Eggsy smiled innocently, already tugging his pyjama bottoms off. "Saves water, saves time. Not sure about the whole 'presentable' bit though, can't promise that."

Well, Harry certainly didn't see any flaw in that logic. "Joining you it is, then," he said, actually forcing himself to sit up and get out of bed. He reached up for the ceiling, rising up on his tip-toes to stretch his muscles before falling back to the floor with a soft sigh. He wandered into the bathroom, starting up the shower and turning on the warm water. 

Pleasantly surprised his offer was accepted, Eggsy smiled to himself and continued stripping his clothing away, going so far as to take them to his room and dump them in the laundry bin. Though, was it his room anymore? His stuff was still there, two boxes still unpacked from his initial move on the offhand chance he switched to sleeping in Harry's room or moved back with his mother. But he didn't have many things to begin with, and now he was sleeping in Harry's room somewhat frequently, plus going to live in a 'barracks'... What was it going to be like when he got back home? 'If' pushed at the periphery of his mind, but he batted it away. Not if. When.

Eggsy entered the bathroom not long after dumping his clothing, naked without shame, and came to stand by the shower.

Harry could hear Eggsy wandering throughout the house, but he didn't concern himself much with what he was doing. He concentrated instead on testing the water until it was a suitable temperature, climbing out of his pyjama bottoms and boxers once it was. Eggsy came in not long after, and Harry reached out to secure his hand around his wrist and tug him in with him. 

Eggsy was quite happy to immediately step into warm steam and hot water, and while he let Harry stand under the jet of water itself, he still reveled in the heat that enveloped him. This actually marked his first couple's shower, come to think of it. He did hope it didn't turn as cold and uncomfortable as the old rumors said.

Harry let himself relax, water streaming down his back and shoulders before he took a half-step back. He pulled Eggsy close to his chest, turning him so Eggsy's back was pressed against him, wrapping his arms around his middle and resting his head on his shoulder so it was still in the spray. 

Eggsy's eyes slid shut as arms encircled him, lips twitching as a head gently came to rest next to his. He tilted his own back towards the water, one arm resting against Harry's. It was like his reflexes were slowed, even his usual love of touch sluggish and contented with the weight on his shoulder and firm mass at his back. 

Harry would have been content to just stand like that until the hot water ran out, but he figured that probably wouldn't be the best use of their time. With a short huff, he unwound his arms, reaching for the shampoo and working it into a lather in his hands. "Keep your head tilted," he instructed Eggsy, starting to work the shampoo gently into his scalp. 

His eyes having been closed even as Harry’s arms unwound from around him, Eggsy was about to open them and ask why, until of course he felt hands in his hair. He nearly melted; he hadn't realized he liked the feeling this much. Maybe the water and good-smelling shampoo helped, but his body relaxed and bent as he kept his head where it was for Harry, lips pressed together in a light and pleased smirk.

Eggsy was clearly relaxing, and Harry smiled softly to himself as he massaged the shampoo into his scalp, fingers combing gently through his wet hair. "Alright. Rinse," he said after he'd thoroughly worked it in, letting his hands fall back to his sides. 

"Mm," Eggsy hummed as he reluctantly stepped away from him to properly dunk his head in the hot water. Rinsing and running his fingers through his hair to get it all out took no time at all, and soon he was turned around to face Harry, his hands moving to touch and press his palms against his chest, eyes following suit. 

Lust flashed in Eggsy’s eyes for a brief moment, unable to help it against the strong, wet, and very naked body in front of him that he wanted in that moment to push up against the wall and see if he couldn't make them both late and thoroughly unpresentable. But it was only for a second before it was gone again, his eyes raised to his face, his smirk pulling to a full and playful grin at seeing the curling of Harry’s hair from the water. "My turn then, yeah?" he said, just over the loud sound of the water, one of his hands rising and touching his neck and cheek as it went to touch his hair.

Harry used the short time it took Eggsy to rinse out his hair to run his eyes appreciatively over him. Eggsy’s arms were completely out of the way, held out from his sides to reach his head, which effectively put the rest of him on display. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time either, Harry thought that he could have done much worse in a spouse. 

Eggsy was young and handsome, and looked pretty damn good dripping and wet. Then his hands were on his chest and Harry glanced down at them, arching an eyebrow, missing the brief flash in Eggsy's eyes. "If you like," he answered in response to his question, inclining his head slightly so it was easier to reach. 

Indulging himself in running his hands through the wet curls on their own, Eggsy then dropped them from his hair to get the shampoo so he could at least be doing it for a purpose. He lathered his hands and rubbed shampoo into Harry’s hair, his scalp, running it through to the ends as he played with it, lightly smiling to himself while Harry couldn't see.

Harry's eyes slid closed at the sensation of Eggsy's hands running through his hair, practically feeling it curling up, growing wilder. It was going to be hell to style once they got out.

Eventually, Eggsy stopped himself, hands sliding down from the nape of Harry’s neck to his back with slightly soapy fingers. He carefully sidestepped him to let him rinse his hair as well, not bothering to stop himself from looking Harry over.

Running his own hands through the mess that was his hair, Harry rinsed it out, standing for an extra few seconds under the warm spray with his head tilted slightly back, eyes still closed. 

What exactly was Eggsy supposed to do when he was easily within arms reach of his naked husband, knowing that after today he wasn't sure when the next chance he would get to do this was,  _ not _ touch him? Leave him be to stand there in peace, patiently waiting to reach around him for the body wash? Fuck that. 

Eggsy admired him a bit more, appreciating his body's flatness and curves and firmness and wear, the scars only adding to his appreciation. His heart tightened and lightened a bit as he looked up to his face with his eyes closed, seeing how soft it looked. While his hands still itched to touch every inch of him, his lips wanted to press slow kisses to Harry's, memorize and save the taste of him on his tongue. He paused, feeling the desire to lick into Harry’s mouth, hands slowly tracing his sides and touching his face, drawing out sighs of his name from him.

The fuck was wrong with him?

Muscle in his jaw twitching slightly, Eggsy’s hands did reach out to press to Harry’s chest and ribs, a little less assertively than he had originally envisioned himself doing. They were softer, asking to be there, his eyes deliberately unreadable in his confusion at himself as he kept his eyes on Harry’s face.

It was easier to resist the temptation that was Eggsy with his eyes closed, Harry found. The shower had done a very good job of giving him a view he wasn't likely to have for a long time, and he didn't want to think about that, didn't want to consider the months ahead, empty as they would be. This shouldn't be an issue. Harry had lived on his own for  _ years  _ and with Eggsy for mere months; he should be perfectly able to adjust to the thought of returning to his old lifestyle.

Then there were a pair of hands on his chest, and Harry could no longer pretend he was alone, that Eggsy wasn't standing right there in front of him. His eyes opened slowly, focusing first on Eggsy’s hands before running along his arms to his face. 

Disobeying him, Eggsy’s hands slid upward so his arms draped themselves around Harry’s neck loosely. He focused on Harry's brown eyes, a ghost of his normal smirk on his lips even as a muscle in his jaw twitched again. "Hello," he said, stepping so there wasn't much space left between them.

Harry's arms slid around Eggsy's waist, a bemused smile coming onto his face. Eggsy's behavior was a touch unexpected, though not unwelcome. "Hello, Eggsy," he said in response.

Eggsy hadn't been kidding, even if he also hadn't meant to say it in his half-asleep grogginess, but he really did like hearing Harry say his name. His smirk grew slightly as his arms tightened, and he leaned in to take a brief kiss from him, forcing himself to indeed make it brief. "Gotta steal your body wash. You're in the way," he hummed, though he didn't move to release him.

The kiss was short, far too short for Harry's liking, but if he lengthened it any, he didn't honestly think he'd be able to stop. "Small shower," he teased instead, making no attempt to remove his own arms from around Eggsy's waist.

"You'll have to get it for me, then," Eggsy reasoned, grinning at him. At this rate, his “save time, save water” reasoning wasn't going to hold true, but he hardly cared. They had until 9 P.M., and he hadn't even given his mother a head's up yet. He could waste time here with Harry. Actually, he was almost afraid of how much time he really could waste. 

"I suppose I will," Harry said, but he didn't reach for it, didn't unwind his arms from around Eggsy. Couldn't seem to bring himself to move his eyes away from Eggsy's face, either. Water dripped down into his eyes, and Harry finally moved, but it wasn't to grab the body wash. Instead, he just turned off the water, bringing his hand right back to where it had been as the water shut off, showerhead letting out a few last drips. "God, I want to kiss you," he breathed. 

The shiver that ran down Eggsy’s spine could easily be explained away by blaming the sudden absence of heat and hot water spraying his face and running down his sides. But this time, he didn't want to blame something else; he admitted to himself it was all Harry's doing. "Then what are you waiting for?" he answered, tilting his head toward him but not kissing him yet.

"If I start," Harry mused, one hand moving to Eggsy's chin, "I don't think I'll be able to stop." His thumb traced along his bottom lip slowly, eyes darkening as they followed its path. 

That was certainly something Eggsy understood; that exact concern was the only reason he hadn't given in and kissed Harry again like he very much wanted to. And seeing Harry struggling with the same restraint seemed to him more than enough reason to abandon it. His mother could wait.

"Then don't stop." 

Harry's thumb paused in its track, and his eyes flitted to Eggsy's. Without another word, he leaned in, pressing his lips to Eggsy's softly at first. It didn't stay that way for long, though; he wasn't much in the mood for taking his time. It seemed to all be spilling out of their hands anyways, and he didn't want to concern himself with waiting. Harry was hungry, passionate, body pressing flush against Eggsy's with the force of it.

Eggsy was quite pleased that he abandoned slow progression, perfectly ready to throw himself right into it and kiss him, well, like he was leaving for months. The arms around him went from loose to clinging, pulling him against his body quite willingly as his lips kissed Harry's with mirrored intensity, the pent up desire to kiss him spilling out to make the kiss just as hungry. He only lasted a few seconds before he was prodding with his tongue, wanting more, everything from him, all at once.

Harry's lips parted eagerly, just as eager to taste Eggsy as Eggsy apparently was to taste him. As his tongue slid into his mouth, Harry pressed forwards, walking him the few steps it took until Eggsy's back was pressed against the shower wall. 

Eggsy couldn't help the humming sound in his throat as they kissed, one hand still holding on around his neck while the other traced down his spine and splayed at his lower back. His eyes closed, grinning internally as his back hit the slippery wall. While he didn't know specifically what Harry wanted to do with him, he was ready to bend to pretty much whatever it was, his cock twitching and filling as he was kissed. 

With their bodies pressed so close together, it was pretty much impossible for Harry to miss the hardening of Eggsy's cock, and it didn't take long for his own to respond. He rolled his hips, pinning Eggsy further and sending his cock sliding against Eggsy's.

Another sound was pulled from Eggsy’s throat, somewhere between grunt and groan, blunt nails scratching at Harry’s back. His cock hardened fully and quickly once he felt Harry's rubbing against him combined with the pressure of being pressed up against the wall and Harry’s tongue in his mouth. His lungs started to ache, the small intakes of air he was getting through his nose not sustaining him enough, but he fought it, not wanting to let his lips go now that he had them. Without much thought, his hips were rolling and pushing up into Harry, as needy and impatient as his kisses had been.

Harry's lungs were beginning to protest, and he broke away from Eggsy, panted into his mouth as he tried to draw in air. His hips kept their rhythm even as Eggsy bucked up against them, and he reached one hand down to wrap around both of them, giving them even more friction. 

Their shower, it seemed, was going to go mostly to waste. 

Reluctantly free, Eggsy didn't want to pull back too far from him, only pulling back a few inches to properly breathe again. When Harry's hand wrapped around them, he bit his lip, not stopping his hips from rubbing up insistently against him and into his hand.

Now that his mouth was no longer connected to Eggsy's, Harry used it to explore his skin, revisiting the marks he'd left patterned on him the other night. He placed gentle kisses over them, deciding the other recruits would have enough of an eyeful already without him giving Eggsy any new ones. Steadily, he increased the pace of his hand, thumb brushing over the heads of their cocks on every upstroke. 

Eggsy was almost disappointed when teeth didn't bite down into his skin, his head falling and hitting the wall behind him as lips more gentle than he had expected touched his neck. Still biting his lip, he registered with vague amusement that this whole showering endeavor was for nothing if the heat beginning to pool in his stomach was an indication of the mess that would no doubt ensue, and he let out a somewhat breathy chuckle. The hand on Harry’s back fell a bit further, playfully groping his arse as he arched his back a bit under influence of lips and hand. "Mm-"

The way Eggsy arched into his touch combined with the sudden hand on his arse pulled a bit of a moan from Harry's mouth. His next tug was a little rougher, a little tighter than his previous ones had been, hips stuttering a bit as he lost his rhythm. 

The heat just kept building inside of Eggsy, his stomach muscles clenching to encourage it. The moan he heard from Harry and the sudden jerk of his hand certainly helped quite a bit. The hand that had hooked around Harry’s neck tugged at him as he lifted his head, lips seeking Harry's. His own hips thrust up against him and into his hand more quickly, chasing down his end.

It was clear from the way Eggsy was acting that he was close, and Harry's cock twitched at the thought. He allowed his mouth to be guided to Eggsy's, reconnecting their lips and licking eagerly into his mouth. He kept up the increased pressure, rocking his hips again to encourage him. 

The kiss Eggsy met him with was far sloppier this time, wet and heated, his hands pointlessly grabbing at him as his hips jerked on their own against him, out of sync. One particularly tight and satisfying thrust and he was coming, moaning into Harry's mouth as he shot between their bodies, spilling on Harry’s hand and his own stomach. "Harry," he breathed against his lips between kisses as the warmth and tingling sensation spread through his body, his lips twitching upwards.

Harry moaned as Eggsy whispered his name against his lips, some of his come painting his own stomach and ruining the point of the shower they'd just taken. A few more thrusts into his own hand, and Harry was riding his own orgasm as well, mussing them up even more. 

Eggsy felt the heat of Harry's come hitting his stomach along with his own, and he hitched in a breath through his grin. 

As Harry slowed, Eggsy’s grip on him loosened, and after a lingering, closed-mouth kiss, he pulled back to look at him properly, face slightly flushed and a lopsided grin firmly in place.

It took a second before Harry was able to open his eyes again, still coming down from his brief high. When he did, it was to find Eggsy grinning up at him. He glanced down at his white-streaked stomach, gaze flicking over to Eggsy's matching one. "Well, I think we've done a wonderful job of making ourselves presentable for your mother," he deadpanned. 

"I think we look great," Eggsy said, head tilted and grinning, completely unperturbed. "Besides, if you'll recall, I said I couldn't promise we'd be presentable. I know me enough for that," he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Harry shook his head slowly, but there was a fond smile on his lips as he backed away from Eggsy. "I think it's time for another shower, don't you?" he asked innocently, flicking the water back on. 

"You mean an actual one this time?" Snickering to himself, Eggsy came toward him, eager to re-enter the warm water.

Ignoring Eggsy's cheek, Harry just rolled his eyes and handed him the body wash.

-

After a good, proper shower this time, Eggsy felt nice and refreshed, relaxed after the hot water, comforting scents of the soaps, and the pleasant mood that came from sex. He made a call to his mother to let her know the plan they had come up with, trying not to laugh as she was clearly very pleased, like he had known she would be.

By the time they got in Harry's car and made for his mother's flat, Eggsy had almost forgotten the reason they were even doing this to begin with. He was enjoying being with Harry, despite the confusion it wrought, and Kingsman had almost slipped his mind. Until, of course, they pulled up to a parking spot outside the complex, and he remembered he had to give a reason why he'd be missing. And that he'd be missing.

Harry elected to drive for once, figuring Eggsy would have enough on his mind without having to watch the roads. At first he seemed fine, put in a good mood by the shower and all that, but as they pulled into the complex, he saw Eggsy’s smile slipping out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't going to stop him from joining Kingsman, not really, but he still felt a tightening in his chest whenever he thought of him actually stepping into Lancelot's position.

Eggsy blinked, sitting in the car a moment, the grin that had been on his face slipping. He was about to throw himself into an incredibly dangerous potential job. He didn't know when he would see his mother again. 

The reality weighed on him for a moment, but Eggsy shook his head to clear it and climbed out of the car all the same, waiting for Harry to get out and join him before starting up the stairs.

Eggsy had climbed out of the car before Harry had a chance to say anything, and he was on the stairs soon after, keeping pace with his husband until they reached the door of Eggsy’s flat. Harry halted him outside before he could knock, turning Eggsy to face him. "You'll come back, Eggsy," he said, willing himself to believe it just as strongly. Then he reached out and knocked. 

Eggsy offered him a half-smile at that, mildly pleased that Harry knew what was the matter without him having to voice it. He was nervous, that was all. And both he and Harry seemed to be in agreement that he was going, that wasn't in question. But that didn't mean the encouragement that it was okay wasn't appreciated. 

As Harry's hand dropped to his side, Eggsy reached to take one of his fingers and hooked his pinky around it, loosely holding on. It would also be good for his mother to see something couple-y, he reasoned.

Michelle called “One moment!” from inside, shuffling around for a few seconds, and then pulled open the door with a smile, holding Daisy on her hip. "Eggsy, Harry, hello," she said happily, reaching out and pulling Eggsy in for a hug, just as pleased to see him as she had been two days ago.

"Hey, mum," he smiled, hugging her back and kissing Daisy on the forehead.

Harry glanced down at their interlocked fingers briefly, but he didn't have time to say anything about it before the door was opening, Michelle beaming out at them. He hung back somewhat awkwardly as she embraced Eggsy, letting their hands disconnect.  

Eggsy looked behind him to glance at Harry as he stepped around his mother, inside and away from the entryway.

"It's good to see you again," Michelle smiled at Harry, patting his shoulder once. Her arms were too full of Daisy for anything else, and she, though tactile like Eggsy, knew better than to pull him in for a hug too. "Come in out of the cold," she insisted as she held open the door, Daisy looking at him in mild interest. 

Eggsy stood just inside, lips pressed together to suppress his amusement.

Offering Michelle a tight smile, Harry slipped past her into the flat and moved to stand beside Eggsy. "Yes, I thought it might be good for us to see you again, given how little you've seen of me so far," he said, feeling distinctly more uncomfortable than he had just seconds ago. Being with Eggsy was fine, comforting even. Being with Eggsy’s mother was not so soothing. 

"Oh, you're busy," she said with a light grunt, setting Daisy down again and letting her go off. "Eggsy's been telling me how you've been on business trips and all that, nothing we can do about that," she smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"And, er, we can't be here for New Year’s," Eggsy said, fidgeting a little bit. When he had called to tell his mother they were coming, he hadn't specified why. It would have been a whole conversation, and he didn't particularly want to do it over the phone.

"Oh," Michelle said, her smile falling, one arm wrapping around her middle. "You canceling, then?"

"Figured it'd be better in person. And we're here now to make up for it." Eggsy shrugged, brushing it off. "Both of us existing in the same place and all," he added with a chuckle, glancing up at Harry. 

The shift in mood was obvious, and Harry internally winced at the look of disappointment on Michelle's face. They were going to need quite the reason why they weren't going to be available for the holidays.

When Eggsy glanced up at him, Harry couldn't help but smile back a touch fondly. As he turned to face Michelle, he slid his arm low around Eggsy's waist, hand resting lightly on his hip. "Yes, I'm afraid Eggsy and I are going to be unavailable for a number of months," he admitted.

Michelle worried her lip, momentarily distracted and most clearly disappointed. It wasn't so much New Year's itself, Daisy would be fast asleep by 9, Dean was most likely going to be out (and even if he was in, he wouldn't be much for a family party), leaving it just the three of them for midnight. She wanted to make this work as much as it could, wanted to at least be on friendly terms with her son's husband even if she never really got to know him, and knew quite well how awkward things were when they were all together. She had hoped that could be Christmas, and then New Year’s would have made a dent in that. Still, they had time.

"Well, that's alright, we can always--" But she cut herself off, blinking as Harry's words actually processed. "...did you say ' _ months _ '?

"Yeah," Eggsy nodded, letting his body lean into Harry's a little bit as he spoke. He hadn't planned an excuse yet, but the hand resting on his hip gave him an idea that rolled easily off his tongue. Some feasible excuse for both he and Harry to be gone and unreachable at the same time. "Harry managed to get time enough for us to go on a late honeymoon," he said with a smile, maintaining direct eye contact with her. "We found a good flight, but it leaves before New Year’s, so you know, we can't make it."

Michelle stared at him for a second, believing him at the same time as she was struggling to believe it. "Love, honeymoons are only a week, maybe two."

"I ain't gonna say no to longer," Eggsy reasoned with a half-grin. Part of him hoped this was okay; he hadn't discussed a lie with Harry. They had been a little preoccupied that morning, and until late last night, there hadn't been reason to lie.

The fact that Eggsy had so quickly come up with a plausible lie (and rattled it off without hesitation) was just another nail in his coffin for the candidacy. It was, of course, a required trait and Eggsy had just proved himself more than capable of handling it, both with his words and body language. Harry liked to think that maybe his slight lean into him hadn't been quite so forced, however.

"Normal honeymoons, yes, but I felt a little guilty about being so busy with work that I thought a longer one might be in order. It's something of a global vacation, so communication will be sparse at best," Harry explained, going along with Eggsy's lead. The hold that he had on his hip tightened slightly, more possessive than anything else.

Relieved Harry was going along with it, Eggsy looked up to him as he spoke and felt the hand on his hip tighten. His eyes and smile were warm, fond and happy, and he made sure to be turned in just the right way for his mother to see it properly too. That was what was most important, making sure his mother firmly believed their relationship and his lie. Though it was the easiest thing in the world to pull an expression that affectionate, which was slightly concerning.

Harry glanced down just in time to see the expression on Eggsy's face, and he could swear his heart stuttered, though he didn't know why, exactly, it should do so. It was just an act, he reminded himself, put on for Michelle to convince her that they were the couple they were posing as. That still didn't stop the sudden urge to lean down and kiss Eggsy, but he restrained himself. Not exactly the thing to do in front of the in-laws, or so he told himself.

“I'll get in touch when I can, mum," Eggsy said, turning back to her, eyebrows raised in earnest. "It'll fly by."

Michelle bit her lip again. She couldn't deny Eggsy a honeymoon, obviously, but it was a little saddening to hear what a small influence she had on him anymore. And he hadn't even told her they were doing this until a few days before leaving. He'd been distant lately, and she would have pegged him for sad, but here he was, looking so happy. She and Eggsy had never been the  _ closest _ , but she thought she knew him better than that.

"...okay," Michelle frowned, accepting though still not entirely happy. 

Harry glanced back at Michelle when she reluctantly acquiesced, affecting an apologetic look. "I can't say I'm entirely sorry to take Eggsy away, as it means I get him all to myself, but I do apologize for the short notice. I was worried some of the plans were going to fall through until just last night when everything was set for certain."

Michelle relented at that; the apology that wasn't really an apology was sweet, and Eggsy looked so happy, she couldn't bring herself to be upset. She was just so happy the unorthodox match was working for her son; all she had ever wanted was for him to be happy. And if that meant she couldn't see him much for a few months, so be it. 

She smiled, moving her hair back from her face. "Well, I hope you'll have fun then. Tell me all about it when you get back, yeah?"

Eggsy laughed and nodded, though inside he was wincing. This was going to require a lot of follow-up, and this was the first lie he really had to tell her. He was so good at it because he'd done it many times both to her and to others, but this was the first real lie he'd told her. 

Somehow 'I'm headed to Jamal's house for awhile' instead of 'I'm gonna go to the clubs and get laid' didn't seem equivalent to 'I'm going on a long honeymoon with my husband' instead of 'I'm going to go try out for a position as a spy in a secret agency.' And if by some miracle he did get that job, this would only be the start in a long series of lies. Eggsy’s stomach twisted. He hadn't even thought to ask Harry about anything beyond the interviewing stage. What if he made it? Would his family be okay? He hadn't asked Harry about his family either, assuming he just wasn't close to any he had. Shit, this all was going to be complicated.

None of that mattered at the moment, though. At the moment, the only thing that mattered was making sure Michelle was happy. 

Harry could practically see the gears turning in Eggsy's head, and he couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking about. He suspected he felt somewhat guilty for lying to his mother like that, but that was just something he was going to have to get used to if he wanted half a chance at staying in Kingsman.

"We'll be sure to do that," Harry said; he was perfectly capable of coming up with suitable lies about where they'd been, what they'd done. He was fairly well-traveled, after all.

Eggsy let his head drop to Harry's shoulder, resting there a moment before he gently stepped out of Harry's grip to take a seat at the table so they weren't all just standing around. He loved Michelle very much, he did, but already he was pretty much ready to leave. He had just seen her two days ago, and he could tell Harry was uncomfortable. He always would be, unless they got past it via exposure like this, but that might not be the worst thing ever, if Harry remained uncomfortable. There wasn't a whole lot of call for being around his family, anyway.

"Rest of Christmas go alright?" Eggsy asked for idle conversation to kill some time, nudging the chair beside him for Harry to sit. 

As he thought, Michelle started talking, going on about Daisy and dinner and how good things were, things that he knew meant Dean hadn't lifted a hand to her in awhile. He hoped she would be alright while he was gone. Maybe moving out and the financial strain of him being gone was enough to keep Dean away from her, though the cynical, untrusting part of Eggsy didn't believe that would be true for long.

Noticing Eggsy's gesture, Harry wandered over to sit next to him, sinking down into the seat gratefully. He listened to Michelle go on with some interest; she and Daisy might not mean that much to him, but they were obviously important to Eggsy and, besides, he didn't want to be rude.

Eggsy smiled, chatting with his mother about nothing mostly, stopping only when Daisy ran up to him to demand his attention. He grinned and scooped her up, pushing his chair out enough to set her on his lap. He continued chatting with his mum about Daisy's preschool she was going to start going to soon, and it made his chest tighten a little bit. This would be the longest he would be away from his baby sister. And leaving her with Dean...

Kissing her forehead and grinning at her as she playfully squirmed, Eggsy set her back down on the ground to let her run off again, back to playing with some of her new toys. He knew there was really nothing else for them to do here, goodness knows he didn't want to run into Dean, and any more chatter would just be meaningless. He loved his mother, but she liked to talk when she could get going. Maybe it was being with a three-year-old for so long.

"About ready to go, luv?" he asked, turning to Harry and looking at him with eyebrows raised in mild interest, figuring if  _ he _ was getting bored, Harry must be bored out of his mind and too polite to say as much. 

Harry's attention was momentarily captured by Daisy as she clambered into Eggsy's lap. He watched her until she fidgeted her way off, returning to the toys she'd abandoned on the floor. Focusing back on the conversation, he listened with half an ear, nodding in the appropriate places to show he was engaged, when really his thoughts were wandering.

Eggsy's question pulled him back to the room, and he glanced over at him in mild surprise. Harry had suspected that Eggsy would want to stay longer, but he wasn't going to decline the chance for an early escape. "If you are."

Eggsy gave him a light smile, and stood up at the sound of his mother's obvious displeasure. "Sorry, mum," he said, walking over to her and letting her pull him in for another hug.

"You just got here," she said with a frown, loosening her grip to pull back and look at him but not letting him out of her arms all the way.

"Mum, we've been here awhile," Eggsy said kindly, keeping his own arms loosely looped around her. "We got stuff to do, I just wanted to make sure we saw you before we left. We weren't gonna be here all day." Squeezing her waist once in another parting hug, he stepped out of her arms, hands finding their way to his pockets.

Michelle didn't look happy but accepted it nonetheless -- the expression of the visit, apparently -- and nodded as she started towards the door to open it for them. "Well. Thanks for coming by then. Always wonderful to have you over. And Harry," she said, turning to look at him directly. "I'm sorry we didn't get to chat much, you and I. Sometimes I get started and lose track of time and all that, but I thought I'd have a bit longer to work with--"

"Mum."

"Anyway. Thanks so much for coming over. Hope to see more of you," she said with a sincere smile, flipping hair over her shoulder.

Harry waited patiently as Eggsy said goodbye to his mother, willing to give him as much time as he wanted with her. They still had a few hours until they were expected.

He perked up slightly when Michelle mentioned him, offering her an apologetic smile. "I'm sure you'll see more of me someday," he assured her, not altogether sure if he was telling the truth. He didn't have any plans to come visit her while Eggsy was away, so it would be months at the least.

Eggsy stepped outside, his shoulders bunching up against the chill on his neck. He smirked lightly to himself at the exchange -- it was a little odd to see Harry and his mother interacting at all. And he didn't quite foresee Harry and her interacting much unless he forced it to happen. Which would only be rarely, especially if it meant lying to his mother all the more.

Michelle smiled at Harry as well, appreciating the sentiment more than anything else. As they stepped through the door, she stood in the entryway, leaning on the frame as she looked at them in motherly fondness. "Right. Well, have a nice trip then, I'll see you when you get back. Love you, Eggsy."

"Love you too, mum,” Eggsy said, smiling at her and standing by Harry.

"Goodbye, Michelle," Harry said, bidding her farewell with a nod. The name felt strange on his tongue, but he didn't think calling her “Mrs. Baker” would be any less strange. He took Eggsy's hand in his as he turned to head back down the stairs, one last gesture to show that they were legitimately a couple before the facade could end.

Eggsy turned with him and didn't think twice about the hand that took his. He had actually forgotten that they were playing it up in front of his mother, acting far more couple-y than they would have so as not to raise her suspicions at his lie. Were it any other person he was lying with, he was sure he would constantly be aware, easily able to keep track. But with Harry it was easy to forget it was fake; Eggsy didn’t have to think about it. 

The hand that took his felt familiar, and Eggsy didn't relinquish it even after the door clicked closed and they were out of sight, walking down the stairs back to the car.

Harry expected Eggsy to pull his hand away once the door had closed and the two of them were no longer under his mother's scrutiny. But he didn't. And Harry found himself reluctant to pull his own away, so he kept ahold of him until they'd reached the car again.

Ordinarily, Eggsy would be hopping into the driver's seat excitedly, happy to drive, but today he agreed with Harry's initial call to be the driver. He probably wouldn't have been as attentive as usual. Dropping Harry’s hand only when they got close enough to the vehicle to warrant it, he slid into the passenger seat.

Digging the keys out of his pocket, Harry took his place in the driver's seat and stuck them in the ignition. As they started back to his house, he glanced down at Eggsy's hand, nodding to the wedding band he wore. "You'll want to take that off."

"What?" Eggsy blinked, looking over at him in the seconds it took to realize what he meant. "Oh. Right." 

By now Eggsy had gotten rather used to it; he'd forgotten he was wearing anything at all. But Harry was right, it probably would be best for him to leave it behind. Even if he didn't know the specifics of why, it seemed the right thing to do, and either way, Harry would know. Carefully, he twisted it off his finger (needing to work it a bit over the knuckle) and put it in his pocket so he wouldn't forget to do so later. He held his hands in his lap, right hand holding his ring finger absently and running his fingers over the smooth, red groove its absence left. Well. Hopefully no one would notice in the few days it took for his finger to go back to normal.

"The other candidates aren't allowed to know who proposed you," Harry went on to explain as he focused on the road ahead instead of Eggsy. "And it would probably be best if they knew as little about your personal life as possible. You won't know most of them for long anyways." 

Many of them would be gone within the first few weeks and those that stayed on would be Eggsy’s competition. Getting friendly with one’s rivals wasn't generally a good idea. 

"Don't volunteer a lotta shit anyway," Eggsy said with a shrug, his face neutral as he too watched the road. That did make sense, as one of them would get the job and the others wouldn't. Not the best idea to let anyone know he already knew Harry, either. The last thing he would want would to be treated differently, either with pity or condescension, if anyone knew he was proposed because he knew an agent and had to beg for it. 

Harry nodded, knowing well enough what Eggsy was like around people he wasn't comfortable with. That had been them for quite a while after they'd first gotten married. 

"Pack lightly. Kingsman will provide you with most of what you need," he told Eggsy as they pulled up to the house and he killed the engine. 

"Alright," Eggsy hummed, planning on doing so anyway. Not like he had a tremendous amount to pack. He could live with one pair of shoes. He supposed. 

Though the car was parked, Eggsy didn't get out, choosing instead to lean over to Harry and guide his head to tilt a bit, enough to press a kiss to his lips. "I'll leave the ring in your room."

The small part of Harry that was telling him to start distancing himself from Eggsy told him to pull away from the kiss, not let it happen, but it was overwhelmed by the vast majority of him, the majority that very much liked Eggsy's kisses. "I'll wait out here for you," he told him once he'd pulled back, nodding in acknowledgement of his statement about the ring. 

Eggsy got out of the car and made his way to the door, shuffling his keys around before he made it in. He had assumed the recent visits with his mother leaving him sullen was a Christmas-only excursion, but it seemed to be continuing. Shrugging it off as best he could, he walked through the house, recognizing it might be the last time he did so for awhile.

He went to Harry's room first, pulling the ring from his pocket. It sort of felt like Lord of the Rings, he thought vaguely. He hadn't really wanted it, but now it seemed weirdly difficult to give up. It had felt so heavy, but now his hand felt too light without it. Shaking his head, he set it down on the bedside table and left the room.

It didn't take long to pack. Eggsy brought only an extra hat and jacket, two outfits. He tossed them in a bag and slung it over his shoulder. He paused at his door, looking at his room before he shut off the light, saying goodbye to privacy.

He came back to the car after only ten minutes inside, and plopped down in his seat again. 

Harry sat back, eyes closing as Eggsy exited the car. He waited patiently for him to gather his things, wondering just how far he would make it. It was entirely possible, he thought, that Eggsy would make it through everything, and take up the name of Lancelot. It would be helpful, if nothing else, to have Eggsy understand exactly what it was he did as a spy.

He was back sooner than Harry had expected him to be, and his eyes opened as he climbed back in, flicking over the bag. "And you're certain you want to do this?" he asked one last time, hands already on the keys, ready to bring the car back to life.

"Dead set, bruv," Eggsy said with a half-smile as he fastened his seatbelt. And it was true, even with all his worry over stupid little things, that he promised himself he was done worrying about. Eggsy was certain he wanted to give it a shot. He had to try, after all. The worst he could do was fail. By not doing it, he would drive himself insane with 'what ifs’ all day long. 

Harry didn't say a word, just nodded his head in acknowledgement and started the car. It didn't seem like he was going to be able to talk Eggsy out of it no matter how much he tried, so he didn't see the point in wasting his breath. He took them to Savile Row, parking in front of the small, unassuming tailor shop.

Eggsy was a little confused as they pulled up to the shop. He had been to the headquarters before -- he remembered the big mansion-like building -- and this certainly wasn't it. "A tailor's?" he asked mildly, assuming it was some sort of cover establishment. Either that or Harry wanted to pick up a new suit and was wasting time in the hopes Eggsy would change his mind in the meantime. As they parked, he got out, looking at it more properly to see 'Kingsman' in golden lettering on the window. This was where Harry had taken him even before they were married. He glanced over at him, brow furrowed. What was going on? 

Harry tilted his head towards the shop and made his way up the steps, pausing at the door. "The route Merlin took you last time was rather... unconventional. Generally, we try to avoid traveling on main roads, but they made an exception in order to keep me alive, it seems," he muttered, tugging it open and holding it for Eggsy. 

"Well, good on them,” Eggsy said as his lips twitched. That made sense all in all, he supposed. 

Walking through the door with his hands shoved in his pockets, Eggsy took careful steps forward, curious as he looked around. He couldn’t remember anything out of the ordinary from his first visit. It still seemed normal enough on the inside, if a little too stuffy and posh for his taste. He turned to look at Harry, waiting for him to lead the way.

Nodding to the older man at the front desk, who gave him and Eggsy a knowing look, Harry led his husband down the short hallway, swinging open the door to the first fitting room and making his way inside. He half-turned to look back at Eggsy, head slightly inclined towards the mirror. 

Still confused and a little hesitant as the door swung open to show nothing but a fitting room, Eggsy stepped in, eyes slightly narrowed as he tried to figure what exactly was going on. It was just a fitting room.

Still, he stepped forward to stand beside Harry, looking at him in the mirror with his head just slightly tilted and eyes still narrowed in minor confusion.

Harry stretched one arm out, placing his palm flat against the glass, waiting for the scanner to pick up and recognize his handprint. 

Once it had, the room started moving, the mirror falling away as the floor beneath them began to descend. 

As soon as the floor began to move, Eggsy's eyes widened. He turned and looked around at the walls as they descended. He didn't know what he’d expected, maybe a revolving mirror wall like in old Scooby-Doo cartoons. Amazed, he craned his neck, spinning a little on the spot so he was facing the center of the... elevator room?

"One of the many things you'll someday come to take for granted," Harry said, watching the expression of awe that spread over Eggsy's face. He had forgotten just how extraordinary things like this could appear to those seeing it for the first time.

Eggsy half-turned towards him with a grin slowly spreading on his face. "Maybe," he conceded, eyes raising once again to the ever shrinking ceiling. "Don't make it less fucking incredible though."

Harry nodded acquiescence, watching Eggsy's face instead of the slowly receding ceiling. 

The room eventually came to a halt, revealing the small underground car that would take them the rest of the way to headquarters. 

Harry seated himself, waiting for Eggsy to follow him in before sending it shooting off. 

Eggsy paused, admiring and letting the initial 'holy shit' of the underground literal tube wash over him before he climbed in and seated himself in the not-too-uncomfortable chair. The covered door closed and locked, and off they shot, from zero to fucking fast in no time, it seemed. 

"...this is so fucking elaborate," Eggsy grinned, looking first at the window showing only rapidly passing brick, then back to Harry, nearly disbelieving that one day he would find this routine and dull.

"We  _ are _ a top secret organization operating at the highest level of discretion," Harry said archly, leaning his head back against the seat, half-lidded eyes watching Eggsy intently. 

"So I'm not all that surprised," Eggsy clarified, leaning over with his elbows on his knees, too keyed up to relax into the seat. "Just impressed. This all is more than I would have imagined."

Chuckling softly at his enthusiasm, Harry felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Dare I tell you about the gadgets you'll be working with?" he mused rhetorically.

"You just want to see me get more excited," Eggsy accused, grinning all the same. It wasn't all that hard to get him excited, especially concerning all the spy things he was going to get to see, knowing they were real. 

"I'd forgotten what it was like to have all this be a new experience," Harry said, not quite a confirmation that Eggsy's accusation was correct, but certainly not doing anything to say it was wrong.

"It's overwhelming, in a great way." Lack of denial was really all the confirmation Eggsy needed. "Gadgets?" he prompted, raising his eyebrows. 

Harry lifted his wrist and tapped the face of his watch. "Amnesia dart in here." He stuck out his pinkie finger, signet ring glinting in the light. "50,000 volts of electricity in here." He extended one foot elegantly, propping his shoe up by the heel. "And you don't want to see what's in here, confined a space as this is."

The amnesia dart Eggsy remembered all too well, Harry having mentioned it briefly after he'd gotten back from Kingsman the first time. The signet ring was a surprise, and he looked at it in a mix of awe and wariness. It was amazing -- but he also held onto Harry’s hand sometimes. It would be ideal if it never accidentally went off. The shoe intrigued him. What could possibly be in a shoe? Eggsy looked at it curiously, then glanced up with a playful smirk. "What's in there, then, a  _ phone? _ " he teased, recalling the silly spy tropes from movies and old tv.

"Used to be, back in the day," Harry said in all seriousness. "Now we've downgraded to a small dagger covered in a highly effective neurotoxin," he added with a shrug.

Again, Eggsy did a double take. That -- while not unbelievable because anything was believable at this point -- was not on the list of things he had thought of. "I'd ask if you're fucking with me, but..." His grin only grew; he could have fun with that.

"I already told you about the umbrella as well, which, unfortunately, I don't have with me," Harry lamented. It wasn't often he left home without his Rainmaker, but it hadn't seemed appropriate for a visit with Eggsy's mother. 

"Then you get dibs on showing me when I get to see them all in action."  _ If _ he got to see them in action.

Harry just slowly shook his head. "I don't have much to do with the training, I'm afraid. Merlin handles most of that."

Eggsy shrugged. True enough he had no idea how it worked, but he had been rather looking forward to Harry being the one showing him certain things. Ah, well. May as well start assuming he wouldn't see him ... at all.

Just Merlin, then? Eggsy tried to remember him, coming up with a bald Scottish man with glasses, but that was about it. But if he was handling training, he was sure to know him quite well quite soon.

After that, Harry lapsed into silence, looking at Eggsy contemplatively. Even if he saw him during his training, their encounters would assuredly be brief, and he wouldn't be able to act like he knew Eggsy, not in front of the other candidates. It would seem too much like they had a prior relationship. 

Silence fell, and Eggsy started thinking about the quickly looming training again. He wished he could ask questions: what kind of tests there would be, how soon it would start, any of that. But he knew he couldn't. He frowned to himself. It was going to be a hard few months.

After what seemed like forever and was still all too soon, the tube slid seamlessly to a halt, door sliding up with a pneumatic hiss. Harry got up and walked out, pausing in front of the giant wall of glass looking over the interior of Kingsman. 

Eggsy's heart immediately sped up as the tube finally stopped. The door lifted, and he leaned forward slightly to peer out of it before getting up and following after Harry in the lobby-like area they found themselves.

When Eggsy approached the glass, his eyes were met with what looked like an endless sea of transport vehicles: planes, cars, tanks, jets, everything was there, carefully looked over by tiny, little people walking around either with headsets or chatting. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, lips parted and eyes hungrily devouring everything, his amazement only growing. Holy shit. 

Harry gave him a second to just admire the view despite the gradually ticking clock. They were already late anyways, might as well make it fashionably so. "Impressive, isn't it?" he asked quietly after a moment. "Come on, we're late as it is." With that, he turned away, heading off through a side door and holding it open for Eggsy. 

Eggsy hovered by the window, taking a last look at the sight. It was like something out of his dreams, something he had thought he would see one day at a much smaller scale. How breathtaking.

Reluctantly, he pried his eyes away from the glass and made his way over to Harry, giving him a small smile as he passed by him through the door. 

Harry couldn't quite bring himself to return it, not with the glare Merlin was giving him as he glanced down at his watch.

"Late, Galahad, as usual," Merlin muttered, giving Eggsy a nod of greeting.

Vaguely pleased in the back of his mind at recognizing Merlin, Eggsy threw a look at Harry from the corner of his eye. Usually late, eh? Heh.

He eyed the closed door Merlin stood in front of, having a funny feeling that was indeed where he was headed. But it was closed, and Eggsy didn't want to open it without invitation, his eyes looking between Harry, Merlin, and the door.

Harry gave him a small nod, a sign of farewell, before turning and starting off.

Merlin focused on on his new recruit, inclining his head towards the door. "Go on. They're waiting."


	19. A Recruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oops sorry this is a bit late, i totally forgot

Eggsy turned to the door, a muscle in his jaw twitching once, and pulled it open to step inside. 

A group of people was waiting in an orderly clump, and just as he'd thought, they all looked posh and proper, dressed in sweaters and blazers all more expensive than everything he had on put together. They were going to  _ love _ him. 

Eggsy made his way to the end by the few girls that were milling about where there seemed to be some space.

Merlin eyed Eggsy carefully, following him into the room when he judged it would be sufficiently dramatic. Kingsman agents had a thing for flair. He surveyed them after a quiet, "Fall in," watching them get into their positions, shoulders straightening, arms resting behind their backs.

“Fall in” Eggsy knew how to work with. He stood up properly (though with his legs spread a bit more than the others'), and after a quick glance down the line, held his arms behind his back.

"Welcome to the most dangerous job interview in the world," Merlin said by way of greeting, picking up one of the shapeless forms resting on the closest bed. "Does anyone know what this is?"

Eggsy squinted his eyes as he looked at the black object, coming to the answer even as someone further down the line raised their hand and said, “Body bag, sir.” Again, he glanced down the line to see who it was that said it, finding a tall, brown-haired man that drew instant dislike. Of course it was a body bag.

Wait, body bag? Why? Eggsy returned his concentrated look to Merlin, head tilted a bit in confusion and mild concern.

"Correct," Merlin said, going on to ask the man his name. Once he'd discovered he was a Hesketh, he returned his attention to the whole company, eyes sharp and serious. "You will write your name on this bag and the name of your next of kin. This represents your understanding of our seal of confidentiality which, if you break, will result in you and your next of kin being in that bag." He paused for dramatic effect, noting that most of them had barely reacted to his proclamation. "Is that understood?"

Eggsy’s eyes widened just the slightest bit. That was a not-so-thinly veiled threat that both he and his “next of kin” would be killed if he mentioned Kingsman. Seemed a bit much for a day one introduction, but then again, he remembered military scare tactics being a thing. He tried not to let it affect him as he nodded along with the others, despite the vague feeling of foreboding as he looked at the bag. Good thing he wasn't a snitch.

Once Merlin had been well assured they got what he was saying, he nodded once, let them fall out, and went on his way. The door clicked shut behind him. 

Once the door closed, Eggsy went to his own body bag, examining it almost disbelievingly. They wanted his name, blood type, and next of kin. He almost shook his head until the girl standing at his side introduced herself. 

Eggsy was almost relieved she seemed open to chatting with him, even if she did give him a bit of a look at his name. 

She introduced him to the only other girl there, the one he had been standing in front of. Amelia. Roxy and Amelia. 

Eggsy repeated the names in his head to hold onto them.

Or he would have, were he not interrupted by the brown-haired boy who had volunteered his information a few minutes ago. The wave of dislike hit him again. 

"Eggy. Where'd they dig you up?"

It only intensified. A deliberate mispronunciation of his name, followed by a slight implying he was just grabbed and thrown in there. A muscle in Eggsy’s jaw twitched again in suppressed anger as his temper flared. He was saved from responding by the girl -- Roxy -- coolly replying that they weren't allowed to discuss who it was that proposed them. He wasn't about to, but it was good someone else reminded this asshole. Charlie.

The blonde asshole and the other brown-haired asshole introduced themselves to 'Eggy,' whomever that was, as Digby and Rufus. They continued to insult him in faux-polite ways, asking which upstanding school it was that he had attended. 

Eggsy resented the implication that he wasn't educated, and while it was true, he wished he could throw any number of things back at them. He settled for responding to the jab of 'did you serve me at a McDonalds' with 'If I had, I'd've given you an extra helping of secret sauce,' and making a jerk off hand motion in their faces.

Roxy didn't seem put off as they shuffled off, and continued to sit beside him as he went back to the business of his body bag. He must have been making a face, because she felt the need to assure him that no one was going to die, this was classic army training techniques, and he bit his cheek to keep from filling her in that he already knew that quite well. “Shame,” was all he muttered, throwing a glance at the men that had instantly proven his initial impressions of them. Assholes.

Eggsy wrote down his legal name and his blood-type easily enough, pausing only for a half second before writing his next of kin. While it wasn't  _ technically  _ next, his sister would probably have been more appropriate, there wasn't a chance in hell of him writing down little three-year-old Daisy's name, or his mother's, even if it was scare tactics. Harry's name was idiotic to even consider, because as Eggsy repeated to himself, this wasn't real, and that would only serve to bring up questions he didn't want to answer from the others. He had distant second cousins and the like, but really the obvious choice blotted itself on the page in his messy writing: ' _ Dean Baker _ '. Heh. At least if he was going to go out in this metaphorical situation, he was taking somebody like that out with him.

It was uneventful even when Merlin returned some time later with a cart containing clothing for them all, a siren suit of beige plaid and boots, and a pyjama set, and informed them that the men would be getting hair-cuts if they survived the week. 

Eggsy raised an eyebrow; Once again, Merlin threw death in their face as a joke, but Eggsy took the clothing anyway, stowing his own jacket, hat, and jeans safely away in a trunk.

He chose to stick by Roxy for this, so far the only even tolerable person he got landed with, and fell into the bed beside hers in only pyjama bottoms when it came time for sleep. 

Arriving at nine meant it was midnight or so when they got to bed, none of them complaining much as the lights clicked out, one by one. 

Being months since he had slept in his own twin bed at his mother's home, Eggsy had gotten used to the queen bed of Harry's guest room, as well as the spaciousness of Harry’s giant king bed when he slept in there. It was a little less space than he was used to, but with his tiredness, it didn't take too long for him to fall asleep on his back, one arm folded behind his head and the other on his chest.

A lack of clocks in the room meant he had no idea what time it was when he was rudely awakened by a cold wetness pressing in on his sides. He rolled from side to side, feeling it everywhere, and his eyes flew open as he sat up and turned on his light. The rest of the recruits were doing the same, clicking on their lights and starting to stand up as they noticed all the water very quickly flooding into their room.

Eggsy's heart started hammering. Was this the first test, then? Don't drown? 

He stood as his eyes quickly started surveying the room, looking for any escape routes, means of draining the water, where it was coming from, anything. His frantic thoughts were interrupted as Charlie began yelling at them all to stay calm, even as they started taking bigger breaths and clutching the bars of the ceiling. 

Then Charlie was pointing emphatically at the bathroom area, shouting “Loo snorkels!” 

Eggsy repeated it in confusion, looking around to the others who were beginning to understand. 

“Showerheads!” Roxy called back a second later, and again, Eggsy repeated it, more desperately this time. 

If they had found a way and weren't going to share, Eggsy sure as fuck didn’t want to die from stupidity. 

“She's right, go, fucking go!” Charlie yelled as they all began diving into the water, swimming to the washroom area.

"Hang on- What's wrong with the fucking door?!" Eggsy tried to yell, but it was too late for them to hear him; the water had risen too high, and he had to take a large gulp of air as the last of it passed over his head. The countdown clock in his head immediately started ticking, and while Eggsy looked over at the other recruits crowding around over by the showerheads, he decided fuck that, it was time to rule out the obvious first. Thanking his stars he was a good swimmer, he pushed himself through the water to the only door, passing by Amelia who was struggling in the corner, but taking no real notice of her.

Eggsy grabbed the handle and braced himself with his feet, pulling and tugging at it to no avail. It was definitely locked. Shit.

There was clanking sounds behind him, but he disregarded them, turning around to look at the others and finding them all staring at him while sucking on some sort of pipe they'd shoved into the toilets. Ah. Well that explained “loo snorkels.” 

But that wasn't good enough for Eggsy; that was only a temporary solution. Breathing through a tube was keeping them alive, yes, but they needed to get  _ out.  _ The door couldn't be the only solution. 

Then an idea took him as he swam over to them to, at the very least to get some air into his lungs, which were starting to burn a little from lack of oxygen. 'Out, out, out,' he repeated in his head, completely bypassing them. His lungs hurt, but they could hold on a little longer. He reached the mirror, the large single sheet of glass that gave him a prickle on the back of his neck, where he anchored himself on its ledge with his feet and one of his hands. If that wasn't a two-way mirror, he'd eat his hat. There weren't cameras, and something needed to monitor them.

Pressing his lips together from the effort, Eggsy pulled back his fist and rammed it as hard as he could into the glass, once, twice. By the third hit, it had begun to crack under his fingers, and he summoned more strength to keep hitting it. With the fourth, the crack widened still further, and the fifth--

Glass shattered loudly all around him as the force of the water thrusted him through the now empty hole, washing him up on the other side of a matted and wet looking room. He hit the wall, soon followed by all the rest of them, landing in one large, wet mess in the middle of the floor. 

Gasping for breath, Eggsy rubbed at his face to clear the water away as he heard Merlin’s low, Scottish voice say, “Congratulations on completing your first task.” 

_ Asshole. _

“Charlie, Roxy, well done. For those of you who are still confused,” and Eggsy had a feeling Merlin was mostly talking to him, “if you can get a breathing tube around the u-bend of a toilet, you have an unlimited air supply. Simple physics, worth remembering.” 

Eggsy, still panting, just looked up at him. How in the fuck was he supposed to know something like that? When, other than now, would needing a toilet for air ever be a situation he was in?

“Eggsy, well done for spotting that was a two-way mirror,” Merlin continued.

Eggsy almost smiled, until Charlie just had to interject that he'd “seen enough of them.” 

“You can all wipe those smirks off your faces,” Merlin said utterly seriously as he glared down at them all. “Because as far as I'm concerned, every single one of you has failed.”

Failed? How could they have failed? They’d survived the task, hadn't they? They didn't drown and found a way out, right? 

“You all forgot the most important thing. Teamwork.” And Merlin gestured to the window where the mirror had been.

Dread starting to weigh in Eggsy’s stomach - they  _ had _ all survived the task, hadn't they? -- Eggsy slowly pushed himself up and walked over to the window, looking out almost reluctantly. Amelia, the girl he'd seen struggling and had forgotten about, lay on one of the beds, lifeless, dead.

Fuck.

Eggsy looked at her, guilt starting to set in, and he mumbled, “So much for classic army technique,” to Roxy in front of him. Maybe the danger was real. Maybe they really would die here. He didn't regret his decision, stood by it, but it seemed all the more real now in the face of the current situation. This is what it was about. Life and death. 

Eggsy found it hard to look away from the dead body lying there even as Merlin ushered them through the door to the next room where towels and fresh pyjamas and cots were waiting while the old room got cleaned up. He was one of the last to leave. 

When Eggsy got dried off and warm again, lying with much more guilt and paranoia than when he had tried to go to sleep however long ago that was, he still found himself shivering. 

A girl had died that night. Part of that was Eggsy’s fault. He took Merlin's ill-taught lesson to heart nonetheless. He may not like these people, but he was going to work as a team with them. He wasn't going to let anyone else die.

-

Work became Harry's solace for the rest of the night. Even filing rudimentary paperwork seemed preferable to going home and facing the newly empty space that awaited him. Staying busy did wonders to keep his mind off that, even if he knew he would have to face it sometime.

Occasionally, his mind wandered to their latest case, the mental list he kept of missing celebrities and icons scrolling through his head. Harry had studied all their files extensively, especially their mysterious professor, the man who'd disappeared just long enough to get Lancelot killed before popping up again as merry as you like the following day. There was nothing, no common thread, no uniting factor that Harry could find, nothing that all of them shared.

Some could have been taken for their money, others their status, some (like the professor) seemed to have no qualities at all that would seem to incite a kidnapping. It was one hell of a puzzle, and he'd already made up his mind to do something about it before he even talked with Merlin. The most obvious target at the moment was, of course, the professor. Harry would have to pay him a visit.

But later. Once it was authorized and Merlin had been notified. Bloody paperwork. 

The realization that he'd have to talk to Merlin about it made Harry remember exactly why it was the magician was unavailable. He checked his watch.

Ten to one. They would have been through the water trial at that point, he figured. Would have seen Amelia sprawled lifeless somewhere. Absently, he wondered how Eggsy would react to that. Probably wouldn't be a fan, Harry reasoned. But Kingsman was not known for being restrained, and the training stage was certainly not where they made an exception.

Eventually, even Harry had to admit he couldn't bury himself away any further, especially not if he wanted to be cleared for Professor Arnold's interrogation. So he made his way home, resolving to go back to taking a cab while Eggsy was away and quietly changed. Climbing into his bed made him realize just how much space Eggsy had taken up and just how little he'd minded. But there was no use dwelling on shit like that, not when the situation had little hope of changing, and Harry closed his eyes, slipping into sleep.

-

Days stretched on with much less incident than the first night. It seemed that the plan had been to shake them up a bit and begin to analyze them under pressure from the get-go. Not to say Eggsy didn't keep his guard up, which he did quite well under his relaxed exterior. Going to sleep took longer too, his body twitching him awake often right at the brink of sleep.

His hair now buzzed short (it felt weird having it like that again, with nearly nothing there) and the siren suit comfortable yet ugly, Eggsy pushed himself into the training process, running the laps they were assigned, doing the physical trials, taking the initial aptitude test. The preliminary tests seemed to be winding down, Merlin scribbling on his clipboard nigh constantly. It was a little unnerving, being judged so often and so importantly.

He and Roxy got on good terms fairly easily. They had bonded a bit that first day, and while she wasn't much for smiling and joking like he liked to do, she was clearly brilliant, very clever and skilled, and Eggsy greatly admired her. She knew a lot about a lot of things. 

He let himself forget that only one of them could get the spot, and that after this he wouldn't be able to see her again.

One day, they were all called outside to stand at attention in front of a large mass covered in a blanket. Eggsy wanted to ask Roxy what she thought was going on as a part of the mass seemed to squeak, but at attention there was no talking, there was only staring straight ahead. He followed the rule, but he had to fight down his curiosity.

Just when he thought he could take it no more, and he was at least going to ask where Merlin was, he emerged from the doors of the balcony above, standing with his hands behind his back. 

“Greetings, recruits,” Merlin said, notably not telling them at become at ease. “As you know, teamwork is paramount here at Kingsman.”

Another squeak. The blanket was dropped and cages and cages of puppies stacked on top of each other came into view. 

Eggsy blinked. 

“Which is why you're going to pick a puppy. You will teach it, train with it. Wherever you go, it goes. Choose your puppy.”

There were a lot of breeds there available to them; Eggsy's eyes quickly scanned the cages for something good. German Shepherd- no, no it was taken. Golden retriever, too easy, too predictable. Basset hound, it would trip over its own ears. But he found the perfect one, and he was rather surprised when no one else picked it. 

Scooping the little thing up in his arms, Eggsy took the leashes that were available to them, fixing one end onto the dog's small collar and setting it down at his feet in line with the others.

When they stood back at attention, he glanced around at what everyone had chosen and was most surprised at Roxy's. “A poodle?” he asked with a hint of a laugh, surprised she had picked something as stereotypically girly as that.

“What?” she said, a little defensively. “They're  _ gun _ dogs. Oldest working breed, easy to train.” 

Eggsy wasn't surprised in the least that she knew so much about poodles, of all things.

“A pug?” she asked, looking down pointedly at Eggsy’s little dog.

“It's a bulldog, innit?” Eggsy blinked, confused and looking down at the little dog. Certainly looked like one. 

But Roxy shook her head, trying not to look amused. 

“It'll get bigger though, won't it?” he asked, half rhetorically, half hopefully. 

She shook her head again.

"Shhhhhit."

Still, even choosing the wrong dog was nice. Eggsy had wanted to get a dog when he was bored and alone at Harry's house, and now he had little Jack Bauer to keep him company. They were allowed to spend the day studying up on the information they had been given for a test that was coming and were also supposed to bond with their new puppies. He had a lot of fun with the mini stress relief of getting to know this awful dog, who already seemed to both love him and want to take advantage of him.

Eggsy didn't have much time to spare for thoughts of his mother, or Daisy, or Harry; he was too busy trying to retain all of the information he was learning as well as succeed at the actual skill testing portion. 

After a few days, when he got his dog, he started thinking a bit more, finding himself missing them. All of them. But it was nice to sleep with JB in his arms sometimes. Some warm body near him was all he really needed to get through.

-

Harry had thought that spending more time away from Eggsy would make the whole thing easier, let him settle back into the bachelor's routine he'd enjoyed for so many years. 

As the days wore into weeks, he was finding that wasn’t the case. Never before had Harry completed so much paperwork, never had he taken up so many smaller missions just to fill time, never had he dragged himself home with such reluctance. His home had always been rather large for just one person, but now it felt especially so.

The first few days, Harry had walked in the door at night expecting Eggsy's head to pop up over the sofa with a question about how his day went. But it didn't come, and Harry was all too quickly reminded of why he was home so late in the first place.

It was always with a sigh that he sat down at an empty table and prepared for bed, the (surprisingly) comforting weight and heat of another body not there. Still, exhaustion dictated that he sleep, uneasy as it might have been.

Things were going well for Eggsy, at least. Merlin fed Harry reports every now and then, kept him updated on Eggsy’s progress as he waited impatiently for his request to check up on Arnold to go through. In the meantime, he ran through the reports of the candidates, pleased to see Eggsy doing as well as he'd known he could.

Eventually, however, everything was filed and set. Galahad was to pay a visit to the university to see what information he could squeeze from the seemingly fortunate professor.

Harry made his way into the lecture hall well before any class was due to start, gazing up at the blackboard until he heard a door click open behind him. Turning, he noted the professor scurrying in, clutching a briefcase and looking up, startled, as he spotted the unexpected figure waiting for him. 

Harry didn't waste much time on polite conversation, engaging Arnold just enough to keep him heading forwards before seizing him by the ear, all pretenses falling away.

Steel in his voice and his eyes, Harry pressed him, determined to figure out what had befallen Lancelot. 

Frustrated by Arnold’s simpering, he spat, "Oh, for God's sake, I've barely touched you. Man up-" He didn't get any further. A sharp spear of pain lanced through his hand and metallic silver obscured his vision, hot spatters against his face, a ringing in his ears. Harry could vaguely hear a commotion, and he swiftly tugged a lighter-turned-hand-grenade out of his pocket, depositing it on the desk and making for the window. He just had time to put an arm up and crash through the glass before it exploded behind him, and he found himself engulfed in a rush of flame.

Everything went black as he hit the ground. 

-

Merlin wasn’t with the recruits every hour of every day. It would be completely impractical for someone that essential to everyday functions in the agency to be missing that often, so it wasn't unusual for one of his proxies to come and supervise them while they studied or trained. 

Today, Eggsy was lying on his back in a patch of grass, JB asleep on his stomach, while Roxy and her poodle sat beside him. She quizzed him about various gun types and their optimal circumstances and range in preparation for an upcoming exercise. 

The agent assigned to them was mostly doing his own thing -- the recruits didn't need much supervision -- so Eggsy wasn't really watching him. His interest was captured, however, when the agent abandoned his laptop and started coming over to where he was. "Gary?" 

Eggsy wrinkled his nose, looking up at him. Clearly he wasn't one for learning names. "Here, bruv," he sighed, gently hoisting JB off of his chest and setting him into the grass beside him so he could sit up. His head tilted, eyes squinted against the sun. He looked up at the man in vague curiosity as he seemed to be very uncomfortable.

"I need to speak with you privately," the agent said, looking at him with his hands held behind his back. Still so proper.

Shrugging, Eggsy muttered a “watch JB?” to Roxy as he stood up and moved to follow the man.

They went decently far out, close to the entrance to the mansion and out of sight of the others, before the man was clearing his throat and turning toward Eggsy. "There has been an incident," he said, keeping his face straight as he pushed his glasses further up his nose.

"Incident... What do you mean an incident?" Eggsy frowned, starting to get more concerned.

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't be telling you this, but as the circumstances are what they are..." He sighed, seeming reluctant to be the one to deliver the news. "Agent Galahad was injured on assignment. He is currently comatose in medical."

Eggsy's eyes widened. Harry? "Wha... What happened? Is he alright? Can I see him?"

"He’s in medical. I believe you can see him."

Heart speeding up, Eggsy was already walking off towards the door, not waiting to be dismissed. The agent didn't have full authority over him, and his husband was injured; he wasn’t going to follow formalities. 

Eggsy had thought about Harry every now and then, missing him especially at night, but even with the bullet wound he hadn't considered that there would be any sort of problem while he was gone. He'd thought Harry would be doing stocks, running missions for Kingsman, and back at home, same as always, and he'd taken mild comfort in knowing there was some amount of routine continuing without him.

With every step, Eggsy got more concerned, pushing himself forward quickly to the sadly familiar path to the medical bay. 

There were only a few rooms there; it only took two tries to get to the right one. Starting to get worked up, Eggsy pulled the door open and stepped inside with a frown on his face to find Merlin speaking to a doctor inside, and Harry motionless in a bed hooked up to some machines. 

"Is he alright?" Eggsy asked instinctively, despite knowing he clearly wasn't.

Merlin wasn't going to bother much with the interruption, probably just another doctor or nurse coming to check Harry's vitals, until he heard the voice. Eggsy. He should have known the boy would come straight to medical once he'd heard what had happened. Ignoring Chester's craning head as he too turned to see who had interrupted them, Merlin briefly closed his eyes before swinging around to face Eggsy head on.

"We don't know," he said honestly. The doctors hadn't been able to give any sort of estimation, approximate or otherwise, as to how long it would be before Harry was going to wake up, if indeed he was going to wake up at all. "The best thing you can do right now, Eggsy, is focus on your training. Make him proud." Merlin nodded to the figure stretched out on the bed, catching a glimpse of him out of the corner of his eye.

This wasn't the first time Harry had been in a coma (and it probably wouldn't be the last) but it  _ was _ the first time they were clueless as to why. The damn encryption on his video feed annoyed Merlin to no end, not only because he couldn't crack it, but because it could hold vital information as to just what had laid Harry out. But there was no use fretting over what couldn't be changed, and in the meantime Kingsman had to run. The organization couldn't stop because one of their agents was incapacitated. 

Merlin's words stirred something in Eggsy as his eyes strayed to Harry again. He hadn't thought Harry would be proud of him, really, not with how much he was against him trying out for this. But he wanted him to be, wanted Harry to wake up and find him still here, still doing well, reluctance turned to pride. Eggsy wanted it for his own selfish reasons, but also because he wanted Harry to be able to say as he was the last candidate standing, 'I picked him.' At least he would have picked him in something.

Slowly, looking back to Merlin, Eggsy nodded, appreciating what had been a gentle way of saying 'there's nothing you can do for him.' He wouldn't be able to hang out here every night like he had done when Harry was recovering from the bullet wound, and part of him felt bad he wouldn't be there when Harry woke up. This was the first time he was seeing him in weeks. Comatose and injured.

He took a few steps over to Harry's bedside, frowning as he looked at him in all his medical wrappings and beepings. He knew he’d been told that he wasn't to acknowledge him any differently than any other stranger here, that he couldn't divulge that they were married to anyone, but the doctors and Merlin already knew, and Eggsy didn't much care at the moment. 

Stretching his hand out, he gently cupped the side of Harry’s face the way he knew he liked, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone in quiet affection. 'Please wake up,' it said as he withdrew his hand again and started to walk away. His eyes, though he still frowned, said 'I miss you.'

Turning back to Merlin, Eggsy looked at him a moment, briefly conflicted as to if he should ask for the updates he wanted, but decided against it. When Harry woke up, he would find out about it. He went for the door instead.


	20. A Villain

When Harry opened his eyes, it was to the bleeping of a heart monitor, an all too familiar, obnoxious sound that he'd come to hate over his years as a Kingsman agent. It always seemed to be there whenever he was in pain. Like now. His body ached, mostly his head, and he only vaguely remembered why. Something about an explosion?

It came back to him in bits and pieces as he lay with his eyes closed, debating whether or not he actually wanted to open them. Eventually, the sequence of events leading up to his apparent hospitalization came back to him, and he peeled them open, thumb moving to press the call button. There was obviously someone behind the exploding head of an unassuming professor, and he'd have to find out what. Which he couldn't do without Merlin. Who he couldn't talk to if he wasn't awake.

Harry’s face itched, and when he put a hand up to scratch it, he found the source to be a scraggly, ill-kempt beard. That would have to go. The back of his neck itched too and this, he discovered, was also from hair, his own having grown over-long while he slept. Just how long had he been out?

Eventually Merlin got back to him, said he'd talk to him in more detail later. He did spare enough time to inform him that Eggsy was doing well in everything and he'd named his dog (a pug, interestingly enough) JB. It was both a relief and a disappointment to hear that Eggsy was still firmly entrenched in the process. He'd been holding out some vague hope that the matter would just be settled by Eggsy failing one of the tests and then neither of them having to worry about his future suddenly turning precarious. But that, it seemed, was not to be. 

"Can I see him?" Harry asked, voice harsh from disuse.

Merlin nodded, resolving to fetch him later on. Then he departed, leaving Harry to deal with himself as he would.

Dealing with himself included actually hauling himself out of the bed and hospital gown and shrugging into the more comfortable red robe and slippers. By that point the beard was driving him crazy, and his next point of business was shaving the damn thing off. 

-

Time passed in a way that felt both too long and too fast. Eggsy couldn't help worrying about Harry, every day's passing leaving him a little more anxious that he wouldn't just wouldn’t ever wake up. But he was concentrating too, working on everything he was given with more dedication than anything else he'd ever done. JB, though he was a little shit sometimes, was a lifesaver.

Eventually, he got word that Harry was up and had asked for him. Relieved that he was actually awake, Eggsy got up and was at the medical ward as soon as his training schedule allowed, bringing along JB as it wasn't an emergency this time. He remembered which door it was and pried it open without bothering to knock in his eagerness to see him, walking inside dog-first, energetic thing.

Harry was bent over the sink inspecting his face when Eggsy entered. Quirking an eyebrow at his reflection, he asked, "Not a fan of knocking, then?"

Once Harry had deemed himself sufficiently well-trimmed, he turned to actually face Eggsy, noting the dog standing at his side as well. "Merlin tells me your training is going well," he said lightly, leaning back against the counter's edge. "I trust the same can be said for JB?"

Eggsy only smirked at the comment, pleased Harry was feeling well enough to be up and making snide remarks about something as dumb as knocking. He glanced down at his dog, happily panting and moving about with its little feet takking on the linoleum flooring. "Oi, sit,” he said deliberately, the dog obeying and plopping down on the spot with a happy looking smile as it looked in two opposite directions.

Eggsy grinned up at Harry, and stuffed his free hand in the siren suit’s pocket. "Mhm. He'll be a right killer by the end of it, won’t you, JB?" he asked right as the dog looked up at him, the tail he was sitting on wagging between his legs as his tongue lolled out of his mouth. 

Harry watched the interaction between Eggsy and his dog with a small shade of anxiety in his eyes, quick to conceal it as soon as he saw Eggsy looking back at him. It wouldn't do to alert his suspicions either on Eggsy's behalf or Kingsman's. He needed to be just as capable as anyone else of passing every test.

"Glad you’re up," Eggsy offered, looking at Harry with his head slightly tilted.

Snorting, Harry swung his arms up, crossing them over his chest. "It was just a coma, Eggsy. Nothing fatal," he said lightly. Lord knew he'd been in several of them over the decades.

"Don't have to be fatal for me to be glad you're not in a coma anymore." Eggsy was reminded of Harry’s confusion the last time this had happened and nearly rolled his eyes.

Chuckling softly, Harry ran one hand through his hair, having to go further than he expected to get to the ends. "We weren't seeing much of each other anyways," he pointed out, narrowly resisting the urge to sigh. 

"Yeah," Eggsy agreed with a sigh, his grin falling. Before visiting the med bay, he couldn't remember so much as catching a glimpse of Harry after he dropped him off. He felt a little awkward, wanting to add 'I've missed you,' but figuring that probably wasn't welcome. Best keep it to himself, he supposed. "It's been weird," he settled on, shrugging.

Harry paused a moment before pushing off the counter and walking slowly (perhaps a little unsteadily) over to Eggsy. He brought one hand up to cup his cheek hesitantly as if he was afraid Eggsy would flinch away or disappear if he seemed too sure of himself. The very tips of his fingers brushed over his cheek before he dropped his hand again. "I've missed you," he said softly. 

Eggsy watched as Harry drew closer, eyebrows tilting up when he got close. As Harry’s fingers touched him and he said the words he'd been keeping back, his heart sped up; he could feel it in his throat. It was kind of nice being wrong this time. "I've missed you too, Harry," he said with a warm, soft smile despite himself, lifting his hand to mirror the gentle touch to his face.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of Eggsy's fingers brushing against his cheek, and he wanted to catch his hand, keep it pressed there, but he didn't. They'd already given the medical staff enough of a display. "But you're in the final six," he said instead, opening his eyes. "It won't be much longer." 

Eggsy felt the urge to kiss him, to wind his arms around his waist and kiss back the past few weeks from him, but he refrained. Much as he would like to be affectionate, it was Harry's lead he'd be following here, not knowing where cameras were or if this seemingly secluded place still held the “no touching” rule. His smile dropped to the usual half-smirk, the hand that left Harry’s face returning to his pocket. "Mm, one way or the other." Or if he died. That too.

As much as Harry liked Eggsy touching him, he disliked him withdrawing. If he wanted to, he knew, he could step forward and kiss him and Eggsy would reciprocate, or not pull away at the very least. 

The more Harry thought over it, the more he decided there was no point in  _ not _ doing it. The medical staff already knew about their relationship, and he might as well take the chance while he had it. Abandoning his previous hesitance, he stepped forwards, hands falling to Eggsy's hips. "Eggsy," he breathed before he bent his head, pressing their lips together.

It was like Harry was reading his bloody mind. Amazing how time away, even a short time like a few weeks, made kisses feel better than Eggsy remembered them. His heart sped up again as Harry murmured his name and held his hips, feeling a touch of warmth in his face and chest both. It wasn't even a thought; he kissed Harry back like a reflex. Trusting JB not to do anything stupid, he pocketed the end of the leash so he could hook his fingers into the back of Harry's soft red robe with both hands.

Fuck, Harry had missed this. Missed the feeling of Eggsy curving into him, pulling him close even if they couldn't really get closer, his fingers clutching at him like he was afraid he'd pull away as he so often had when their marriage had first started. He didn't pull away until he absolutely had to, panting for air, eyes still fixated on Eggsy's lips.

When he pulled back, there was a dusting of faint pink across Eggsy’s cheeks as he panted through a happy-looking smile. His grip loosened on Harry’s robe, but he didn't want to pull all the way away, not when Harry was here in front of him after weeks of not seeing him, not talking to him, not hearing about him. Not when all he wanted to do in that moment was keep kissing him. He knew he had missed him, but damn, he hadn't realized how much until they were together again.

Even knowing it would only get harder for Eggsy to leave the longer they stayed like this, Harry was reluctant to let him go. He managed to peel his eyes away from his slightly open mouth, turning them to his whole face instead. "It will only be a few more weeks," he said quietly, but he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that wasn't that bad than anything else. 

Eggsy's eyes met Harry's, something unreadable in them as Harry reminded them both. A few more weeks and he would either be a disappointed house husband again, or a spy. And either way, when he got home, he was going to forcibly take every kiss they couldn't have from Harry’s lips. On his lap on the couch, against a wall on the stairs, pushed against the door of his room, between the sheets. That might serve as a proper motivator. God, he missed sex, too. 

"Few more weeks," Eggsy echoed with a nod. His hands tightened again, hugging him as he leaned in to hover over his lips for a second, enjoying the moment of anticipation, and kissed him a second time.

Harry almost didn't give Eggsy a moment of anticipation to savor, wanting to lean in and take the kiss he knew was coming. When he broke it, he kept his mouth nearby, moving it close to Eggsy’s ear on the opposite side of the cameras. He didn't know how many of the med staff could read lips, but he wasn't taking the chance. "I'm going to think about you tonight, before I go to sleep," he breathed, far too low the for built-in microphones to pick up. "I'm going to picture the way you looked when I first touched you in front of that kitchen sink, the way your head tilted back, the way you arched into my hand. I'm going to remember the way your breath hitched in your chest and every little moan you made." As he spoke his hands wandered, skimming dangerously low on Eggsy’s torso, but not quite low enough to elicit an actual response. "I'm going to-"

There was a knock at the door, and Harry huffed out a sigh, stepping away to put a decent distance between him and Eggsy before calling out a clipped, "Come in."  

God, Harry was an evil bastard. Even if Eggsy’s body was slow to respond, his mind wasn't, and he filed away every last bit of that to save on his own. He had something to think about tonight too; Harry knew how to push his buttons so well. Having smirked while biting his lip (and shivering once, as Harry’s voice that low and close to his ear often made him do), he had to bite down a little harder to keep back the noise of disappointment at the sudden knock at the door. 

Eggsy grabbed the leash again and returned his posture from bending into Harry's body to standing straight again, willing away the pinkness in his cheeks as he turned to the door to face his annoyance head on. He had rather been enjoying that.

The devious interrupter, as it turned out, was Merlin, clipboard in hand and an already suspicious look in his eye as he flicked his gaze between the two of them. "I've been reviewing the video footage from your glasses, Galahad, and I've found something I think you need to see. Eggsy," he said, with a nod to him, "you're dismissed."

But Harry wasn't willing to let Eggsy go quite yet, not with days without him stretching ahead. "Nonsense, let the boy observe. He might learn a thing or two," he said wryly, already turning to face the screen Merlin was pulling the footage up on.

Merlin hesitated only a moment before shrugging and letting it play. They watched stoically as Harry's voice emanated from the speakers, Professor Arnold's groans of pain acting as an overlap until his head exploded and the screen went dark. 

Pleased Harry let him stay, he didn't want to leave him just now, Eggsy smirked to himself as he stood beside Merlin, equally pleased to be seeing a bit of action if only via Harry's glasses. He watched as Harry interrogated an old guy, smacking him once, his yelling starting, and then suddenly--

" _ Fucking  _ hell. You blew up his head? That's a bit much, innit?" He made a face at the explosion and blinked, leaning forward to look over at Harry around Merlin. How was that even possible? He smacked him and his head exploded? Weak head.

Merlin shook his head at Eggsy’s objection, rewinding the clip and zooming in on the implant that was superheating Arnold’s flesh. "There's some sort of implant in his neck. We traced the IP address to Richmond Valentine, so it could be anyone," he lamented.

"Richmond Valentine's a  _ genius,"  _ Eggsy said with admiration, almost talking to himself. But at their rather confused looks, he raised his eyebrows in confusion of his own. "Did you not see his announcement today?" 

At Merlin's “No,” Eggsy took the tablet right out of his hands, proper procedure be damned, to go to the article with accompanying video he'd been watching earlier that day. Merlin had instructed them to start becoming aware of news and current events if they hadn't been already, as a Kingsman Agent had to be well informed in all things, and he was surprised that Merlin, for all his technology, hadn't heard this. Hitting play, he maximized the video to show them the announcement which was probably the biggest innovation in technology since the smart phone.

Harry listened in stony silence as the announcement played, his eyes catching something in the final seconds of the video. As soon as the tablet was back in Merlin's hands, he plucked it out, ignoring his affronted look. He zoomed in on the smiling woman at the podium, noting that she had the same scar as Arnold had had. "I think it's time Valentine and I had a little tête-a-tête," he said quietly.

Merlin reclaimed his tablet, already working on securing tickets for an impending gala.

Eggsy definitely learned a thing or two by staying. It was interesting to have a mini glance at the way Kingsman really worked, how fast it went and how efficiently. It was probably time for him to leave now though, with JB clacking on the floor impatiently, Merlin working for Harry's apparent new mission, and it seemed unlikely they would get time alone again to talk (or kiss) as he wanted. So he thought it might be best to take his leave.

Merlin seemed absorbed enough in securing Harry a place at the gala and setting up an alias that Harry could at least risk a goodbye to Eggsy. He made his way over to him, halting in the doorway and leaning one shoulder against the frame. "Good luck, Eggsy," he sighed. 

"Thanks," Eggsy said as he stopped outside the door, turning to give him a small smile. "Few weeks left, like you said. Hope I can sneak in another visit or two with you, but I might be joining you on shit like that soon enough." He meant it teasingly, mostly a slight hope that maybe he could make it to the end. If it was between him and Roxy, it could go either way. And if he got to the final two, he might be okay with that. If there would be anyone he could lose to, it would be her.

The statement didn't do much to comfort Harry, seeing as how he'd just woken up from a coma, but there was nothing he could do about it, not now. Eggsy would pass or fail on his own. "Goodbye, Eggsy," he sighed shortly, wanting to reach out and touch him in some way, but also very conscious of Merlin at his back.

Eggy’s smile fell. As this was clearly goodbye for a while, a “good luck, Eggsy” or two wasn't good enough. Throwing caution to the wind -- missing Harry made him reckless, apparently -- and deciding any consequences didn't matter much right then, he leaned closer to Harry to steal a last, quick goodbye kiss from him before pulling away again. Amelia's death still prickled the back of his neck; God forbid, Eggsy leave without getting as many kisses as he could get. It would be worth getting in a bit of trouble with Merlin. "See you, Har." 

Chirping once at his dog, Eggsy jingled the leash to get him going, and started back down through the medical hallway back to training. 

Merlin caught the kiss out of the corner of his eye but, despite how massively unprofessional it was on both their parts, he didn't say anything, just put the finishing touches on one Mr. Devere’s invitation. None of the other candidates were around; the small display of affection wasn't worth commenting on. 

Still, as the door closed and Harry moved back to his side, Merlin couldn't resist a wry question. "So, which one of you is going to say it first?" he asked, one eyebrow arching upwards as he looked over at him.

Harry's brow only furrowed in confusion. "Say what?" he asked.

Merlin only snorted and sent the details of Harry's new persona to him in an e-mail. "Nothing, Harry. Forget I asked." 

-

It was like the small run in with Harry, with the insistence of his kiss and the words murmured in his ear, had fanned a flame in Eggsy that he had been proving adept at ignoring. He still couldn't spare much thought for him during the day with its constant demands and exercises, but he did find himself thinking of him at night as he lay in his bunk a bit more, and guilt-free this time as now he knew at least Harry did it too sometimes. (That first night back was almost incredibly awkward as Roxy turned over in her sleep while he was trying to subtly yet fervently rub himself against a pillow he’d clutching.)

Merlin let them know the day of when their next big test was. He had seen them to the plane, told them to strap in their flight suits, and stayed behind at headquarters as their anonymous pilot (they didn't even get to see him) flew them up into the air. While he didn't tell them much about their mission, it wasn't hard to guess what it involved, what with the suits and safety training they had been through and the parachutes strapped firmly to their backs. Skydiving it was.

Immediately, Roxy had begun to exhibit signs of panic, signs Eggsy knew quite well as he had a few panic attacks now and then himself. 

He watched her with a wary eye as the plane climbed higher and higher into the sky. She started muttering 'fuck fuck fuck' like a mantra, and after learning her fear of heights stemmed from doing exactly this once before, he felt rather sympathetic. Reaching out, he patted her knee, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Rest of them could fuck themselves.

When it felt like the plane leveled out, he heard Merlin's voice in his helmet, as clear as though he were standing beside him. 

"Listen up. Your mission is to land in the target without the radar detecting you. If I read you on the radar or you miss the target, you go home. Is that understood?"

In a way, it was almost a relief. That seemed fairly easy: quickly get control over your parachute, do so in a safe distance yet close enough not to be read before you land, be able to navigate into a small space. At least if Eggsy failed this one (unlikely), he wasn't going to die.

"Drop zone coming up, twenty seconds." 

"We gotta go," he said encouragingly to Roxy, standing with her to exit the plane first. 

When the doors opened and she said she couldn't do it, the rest of them pushed past as she quietly panicked. Finally they were up again, and, knowing they would miss their landing zone if they didn't hurry up, Eggsy grabbed her by the shoulders, demanding she let go and just get it over with. In a brazen display of confidence to help her follow after him, he fell backwards out of the plane.

It was amazing, really. While it hurt how much the air was resisting his body, it was a lot of fun to straighten himself out and angle towards the small little K he could make out in the scanner on his helmet, spinning and twisting just because he could. He grinned and yelled a happy sound for the hell of it as he noticed Roxy’s little dot speeding down to join them, “Glad you made it!” he shouted and genuinely meant it.

"My, my, you're all very cheerful. Did you really think it was going to be that straightforward?" Merlin asked.

Eggsy's grin dropped rather quickly. Yeah, for a second there, he kinda had. 

"Any idiot can read a heads up display. A Kingsman agent has to be able to solve problems under pressure. Like what to do when one of your group has no parachute." 

"Shit," Eggsy muttered to himself, frantically looking around at the other five of them falling through the air quickly. One of them was going to die if they didn't figure something out, and quickly. His mind was working fast, even as one of them called out, “What do we do?!”

"I told you," the voice in his helmet answered, cool as ever. "Stay under the radar and land in the target. I hope not to be scraping one of you up. But if I do have to, and you land in the target, please know I'll be very impressed." 

That was _not_ helping.

But as he saw them hovering in an almost circle, he got an idea. "Everybody listen, I've got a plan," he yelled, praying to god they fucking listened to him. "Pair up, grab the closest person to you." Even as he spoke, he started reaching for Rufus, beckoning him to maneuver over. 

And of course, Rufus pulled his fucking chute out of panic. It yanked him out of the fall, leaving Eggsy empty handed. 

"Rufus, you wanker, we're an odd number now!" Fucking hell, it was hard to get these people to stop being selfish enough to listen to him. Eggsy was  _ not  _ letting someone else die. He'd learned that lesson. Quickly, he thought through another answer..

They went in a circle, grasping hands at Eggsy's command. "We pull our cords one by one. When we know who's fucked, the person on their right grabs them." They seemed to agree with this plan. Going for it, Hugo, then Digby pulled their cords, followed by Charlie, leaving just him and Roxy left. Two of them, one parachute. 

" _ Fuck, _ " he screamed out of frustration, looking up first to the endless sky with the others sailing safely to the drop, and then to the quickly approaching and very hard looking Earth. God, he did  _ not  _ want to die today. But more importantly, he wasn't going to let Roxy die either. "Rox, whatever happens now, I've got you, alright?" he assured her, putting that promise into his voice as much as he could. 

"Okay, Eggsy," she said trustingly, grasping his hands, even as the bright red 'low altitude' warning blared loudly in their helmets. 

"Yours first, okay?" Eggsy prompted.  

Roxy agreed. 

His heart pounding so loudly it physically hurt, he grabbed her more tightly, fighting the wind to get underneath her and grab on tightly. If it was her chute that worked, he didn't want to hit the ground either. Their fall to Earth was coming to an end so fast, black clouded his vision on the edges. Eyes squeezed shut, Eggsy’s hand felt along her suit for the cord and pulled it hard.

The chute opened, and as soon as he felt Roxy starting to be yanked up, he held on for dear life, eyes flying open again in terror. "Fuck-!" he yelled again, not feeling as much resistance to the fall as he had hoped there would be. Had they wasted too much time? His grip wasn't good enough on the slick suit, and he slid down a bit, clutching Roxy’s legs while his own dangled helplessly. He was going to die, he was going to fucking--

His legs buckled underneath him as they hit the ground, landing him flat on his back with Roxy right on top of him, somehow, miraculously, smack in the middle of the giant K. Relief flooded Eggsy, numbing and soothing the panic as it set in that he was most decidedly not fucking dead, if the sharp pain in his knees and shins had anything to say about it.

The rest of the recruits joined them one by one, Charlie making it into the giant K, while the others missed. They stood at attention, and even though it had been many minutes since landing, Eggsy's heart was still thumping in his chest, as though celebrating still being alive and fueling his growing anger. All the chutes had opened -- did that mean he was the one without a fucking parachute? 

Merlin arrived with his ever-present clip board and sent three of them home, leaving Eggsy, Roxy, and Charlie as the final three candidates. 

Thank fuck.

As he dismissed them, Eggsy glared at Merlin, puffing himself up. "Why the fuck did you choose me as the gimp?" he demanded, angry and offended. "Am I the expendable candidate?" He spoke out of anger more than anything else. It started to fade as Merlin pulled his own chute, letting him fly back with his arms flailing a bit for balance as he was dragged backwards several feet.

Eggsy was thoroughly emotionally exhausted. That much panic, relief, panic in a cycle was rather draining. So he just let himself sit there for a minute or two before getting up and hauling his chute inside to be re-packed together. He was rather proud of himself, all things considered. He almost wished Harry could see video of things like this, (as far as he knew, he didn't) because that was definitely one of his better moments out here. 

300 feet from the ground, Merlin said. Fuck. And three more potentials gone. 

It really made Eggsy feel good to still be there, and still be alive for that matter. He wished he could see Harry. He certainly could be celebrating 'thank fuck I'm alive' with him quite well, he thought. 

And god would he kill for that bed again. At two to go, he'd be home soon.

-

The brief glimpse Harry had had of Eggsy only served to make things worse for him. Deciding not to spend too much time puzzling over Merlin's cryptic words, Harry focused nearly entirely on missing his husband. Their kisses, altogether too brief, hadn't given him much fuel as he'd stared up at the ceiling at night. But, dammit, he was back in his own bed for the first time in weeks, not in coma, and he was going to take advantage of it. Recalling exactly what he'd told Eggsy he was going to recall, he jerked one out, unsatisfying as it might have been. Better than nothing, he guessed.

The next few days gave Harry other things to think about as the gala approached. He spent hours poring over Devere's file, learning every facet of the man he was going to become for a few hours. He also dug a little deeper into Valentine, disliking the man the more he found out about him. Worthy though his cause might have been, he was going about it entirely the wrong way, and Kingsman couldn't let it stand.

Merlin decided to keep the information that Eggsy had come close to death away from Harry; it wouldn't help him concentrate on his mission and what had happened happened. There was no going back and changing it now, so what would have been the point?

Unencumbered with the knowledge of his husband's near death experience, Harry suited himself up and made his way to the home of one Richmond Valentine, already thoroughly entrenched in Devere's mindset. The lack of cars and partygoers was a touch baffling as he exited his own, glancing around as he waited on the stoop.

Seconds later, the door swung open and Harry was greeted enthusiastically. "I'm sorry, I seem to have gotten my dates mixed up," he commented lightly, wondering how the hell Merlin could have made such a mistake. As he was ushered in and reassured that he was perfectly fine, just getting special treatment, that was all, he glanced casually around, letting his glasses capture anything that might be of interest.

A woman clutching a few papers walked past. Pretty, but not his type. He gazed after her anyways, eyes straying a bit lower than was really decent under the pretense of getting an eyeful. 

Valentine didn't seem to notice, just chattered on about donations and his cause. 'Save the world.' He had low aims, it seemed.

They seated themselves at a large, elegant dining table clearly meant to host more than just the two of them. Harry couldn't help but take notice of the rather strange appendages Valentine's assistant seemed to possess, the metal blades clanking softly as she carted their dinner over to them. Only slightly taken aback by the reveal of fast food, Harry just offered Valentine a faint smile, deciding a Big Mac was as good a choice as any.

It was a gamble, pulling out Professor Arnold's name, but Harry needed his reaction, needed to see if the connection was there. The dangerous turn the conversation took afterwards assured him that it was. Valentine was, without question, their guy.

The night passed without an opportunity for him to break away and see what else he could hunt down, a fact that very much disappointed Harry. He left feeling a twinge of dissatisfaction and with nothing more than what he'd seen in the dining room. 

-

It felt like there was barely any time after the last test before Merlin came through the door while the final three candidates were relaxing in the barracks. They had been watching a news program about Richmond Valentine and his new SIM cards, something all the more interesting to Eggsy now that he knew he was being investigated by Kingsman.

"Bet you thought we were done for the day. Well, we're not." Merlin handed out envelopes to all of them, hard to open properly for Eggsy as JB was currently lounging on his lap with all his fat, happy weight. 

Once he got it open, he pulled out a paper with a location and instructions, and a picture of a very pretty woman.

Apparently there was to be a party that night in London. And it would be their job to show up, find this woman, and “win her over.”

Eggsy’s eyebrows twitched just slightly as he read the description, a knee-jerk reaction he suppressed pretty well. He felt weird about it, that innate loyalty thing tugging at him when it became apparent that the goal was to sleep with this woman, but he pushed past it. Not only was he not supposed to be married as far as the others knew, but this was the job, there were missions like this, he had already been told it was going to happen. So he swallowed down his discomfort and spread on a smirk, another act to put on, proudly showing his photo to Charlie and declaring it to be, “Easy. Posh girls love a bit of rough.”

His confidence took a bit of a blow when both Charlie and Roxy flipped their files around to reveal the same picture. Didn’t matter. Eggsy was determined to win.

The description in the envelope just said to 'dress your best.' While they each got ready, Eggsy whistling his approval at how good Roxy looked, Charlie wasted no time taking the mickey out of him for what he had chosen to be his “best outfit.” He didn't see the problem; the black and gold jacket was easily his best item of clothing price and brand both, shoes with wings coming in a close second. And besides that, he thought he looked damned good.

It was a little embarrassing for Charlie to be validated as the bouncer at the club refused to let Eggsy in dressed like that. But just as with the acting, he took it as another part of the challenge and managed to jimmy open a locked door in the back with a credit card, bobby pin, and needle that he kept in his pickpocket kit in his back pocket. 

Eggsy joined the other two inside with only a grin for explanation, grabbing a flute of champagne for himself as he joined them with their target. The taste... The taste was off. He frowned as he joined them, choosing to segue into the conversation with a nonchalant “Is it just me or does the champagne taste a bit funny?”

He flirted with the girl a little bit, smirking as he plopped down, though it wasn't long after that when their target was called away, so all there was left to do was wait. 

As soon as she was gone, he made a face, touching his stomach. 

“Are you alright?” Roxy asked with slight concern.

"Nah," he said, grimacing at the glass. He'd only had it happen to him once before, but he could swear the champagne was drugged...

Eggsy’s suspicions were only made certain as the man who'd called their target away grinned a rather unsettling grin, casually suggesting the way to guarantee getting someone home was, “Rohypnol, or something stronger,” and Eggsy promptly passed out, black overtaking him.

-

When he came to, he had absolutely no fucking idea where he was. As he struggled to come back to consciousness, he looked right and left, finding only brick and tunnel. Where the hell…? 

Footsteps off to his right caught his attention and he looked up, finding the man with the unsettling smile coming toward him, dressed all in black. "Who the fuck're you? Where am I?" he slurred out, finding his tongue slow and his accent thicker than normal as he woke. 

"This knife," the man mused, ignoring the question and holding up the small knife at his side, “it can save your life, yeah?" He smiled.

A sudden light and honking sounded off to Eggsy’s left. His mind was coming back much more quickly now, as the man’s words and their implication set in. Eggsy was tied down. He was on train tracks. A train was coming.

"Fuck!" Immediately, he began to struggle, arms and legs both pulling at the thick ropes tying him to the metal. 

"My employer's got two questions for you, Eggsy." 

Eggsy glanced up at the sound of his name more than anything else, still struggling and keeping one eye on that bright light at the end of the tunnel that was quickly encroaching. 

"What the fuck is Kingsman?" 

His legs kicked, arms tugged. The ropes weren't giving. 

"And who's Harry Hart?"

Obviously, Harry's name caught him, and for a brief moment Eggsy froze. No way in hell was he going to give up anything on Kingsman, not when it would so obviously hurt and endanger the others there. He firmly believed in never giving anyone up, no matter what, and his life being in danger made no difference. If he died so they all could still be safe, he'd do it. Even Charlie. He was loyal enough to Kingsman for that. But Harry especially, he wasn't saying a thing. If they were asking him who Harry was, they didn't know, and he wasn't going to give away anything that could endanger him. Even if he died. Fuck, he was going to die.

"I dunno who the fuck that is," Eggsy said harshly, back to struggling and keeping an eye on the train. "Shit!" he yelled, his voice cracking. That train really was coming down the tracks fast.

"Aw, Eggsy, I just killed two of your friends for giving me the same bull _ shit  _ answer."

"Fuck!" Roxy and Charlie? They were dead too? How many fucking trains went through here? "Just cut the fucking ropes, please!" Eggsy cried desperately, heart hammering, face red as he stared directly into the bright light that was so very close now.

"Hey, Eggsy!" the man yelled. 

Eggsy barely heard him. 

"Is Kingsman worth dying for?"

"F-..." The train blared its horn. His time was up. It wasn't a question. "Fuck yeah!" The light was nearly on him. He was about to die. He almost wished he had thought to flip the bird at him as his last act.

Eggsy’s eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to actually see the impact as it hit him, and he tugged his hands and feet in on himself as much as he could, making himself small, tense.

Then he heard the train, heard it above him, clacking on the rails, but he was still alive. At least, he thought he was. Carefully, he cracked open his eyes, looking first toward where the light had been seconds earlier, and then around him. ... He was alive?


	21. A Reunion

Harry had known this was coming from the second Eggsy said he wanted to be a Kingsman, but he hadn't actually considered the ramifications until just now. It was all just a setup, he knew that. He’d gone through it himself many years ago, remembered being scared shitless. And now Eggsy was going through the exact same thing, stretched out as he was on the platform, train hurtling towards him.

Harry’s hands itched to go out there and untie him, but he knew he couldn't. Eggsy had to pass this test just like everybody else. That didn't mean he didn't feel his throat go dry as the train's light drew closer and closer, desperation thick in his husband's voice.

Eventually the train reached Eggsy, and the platform swiftly descended. Harry stepped out to take the other man's place, grabbing the knife from him and carefully composing his face into as neutral an expression as he could muster. 

When Eggsy opened his eyes, he first glanced over towards the figure in black standing in front of him, not noticing that the person had changed. For a second or two, he was just so happy that the train was gone, and he was so clearly not dead. Again. He was feeling that a lot lately.

Then Eggsy looked up to be angry, ask some questions, but he recognized the face as soon as he focused enough to make it out. He knew he was supposed to be passive about his proposer, but fuck, he’d thought he was about to die thirty seconds ago. He couldn't help a small smile of relief as he relaxed into the railings, letting out a hard sigh as the smile dropped again. "Fuck," was all he said, letting his head fall backwards against the metal.

Harry's brows drew together momentarily at the smile, a bit surprised by it. If anything, he'd been expecting Eggsy to be angry with him. "Congratulations, Eggsy, I knew you could do it," he said. "Roxy passed too, with flying colors. Charlie's up next. Would you like to watch?"  

Eggsy wondered if the tingling feeling going through him as the adrenaline washed out would ever go away, if he would eventually become numb to this sort of thing. Who fucking tied someone up and threatened to run a train over them for a test? But he couldn't quite say he wasn't expecting this to be the outcome, either. It made sense, that they would be conditioning them to fear for their lives and reason ways out of it or expect it if a bad decision was made. It was just another fucking test. A test Eggsy passed. That's what counted. 

Another hard sigh as he got his breathing back to normal. "...Yeah. Alright," Eggsy agreed, not much oomf behind his voice. But Charlie tied up and thinking he was going to die, that he wanted to see.

Prick.

Without further ado, Harry bent down and sawed through the ropes, freeing Eggsy’s feet first and then his hands. He tucked the knife away in a small sheath slung around his hip, helping Eggsy to his feet. "Are you alright?" he asked as he led him to the door hidden in the wall of the tunnel. 

Eggsy got to his feet with a groan, his head suddenly throbbing from the after effects of the drug and the extreme panic minutes ago. He rubbed his temple with the heel of his palm, the other stuffed in a pocket, following along after Harry. "Alright as I can be, nearly dying twice in one week," he snorted, shrugging. "Pretty alright."

Harry's step faltered and he pulled Eggsy to a halt, grip tightening on his arm. "Twice?" he echoed.

Eggsy pulled to a stop, looking at him with eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yeah, did you not hear about that? Skydiving?"

The skydiving test wasn't supposed to kill anyone. Harry supposed there had always been some element of danger to it, given that the sport did involve jumping out of a plane with only a piece of cloth to slow you down, but it was never intended to be lethal. "No," he said after a second. "I didn't hear about that." 

"Oh." Eggsy blinked. There was no reason for Harry to not know, he'd known of his progress before if their last conversation was any indication, so it wasn't as though he needed to keep it from him. While he ordinarily would have said 'I'll tell you later,' he had no idea when the next time he would even see Harry again would be. 

"Yeah. Well. Merlin said one of us didn't have a chute, so, stupidly, I believed him. I didn't open mine. Clung onto Rox, she opened hers. Thhhhhree hundred feet, I think Merlin said?" Eggsy said as he tried to recall; he hadn't heard terribly well through his anger and head throbbing of the time, but three hundred feet above the ground sounded about right. "Legs still hurt," he added with a half-smirk, his weight shifting from one foot to the other.

Harry just stared at him for a moment, blinking. Eggsy had almost died. More than that, Eggsy had almost died, and Merlin hadn't even told him about it. He'd had to find out in a roundabout way days after the fact, and he was none too happy with that. He gritted his teeth, grip on Eggsy's arm tightening fractionally. Wordlessly, he started up again, slamming into the control room and throwing an ill-concealed glare over at Merlin.

The magician exchanged a glance with Percival before shrugging one shoulder and turning back to the screens where they were hauling Charlie out and fixing him to the tracks. 

As soon as they entered the room with the others, Eggsy switched back into neutral mode. In here, Harry proposed him, that was all. He positioned himself mirrored to Roxy and standing beside her. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Eggsy gave her a smile, telling her he was pleased they had both made it through another one of those taxing tests. His hands clasped in front of him and head tilted as he looked at the screen, he waited, interested in how it looked when he wasn’t the one tied to the tracks.

Harry stood slightly behind Eggsy and off to one side, eyes flicking between drilling holes into the back of Merlin's head and the screen where they could see the train growing ever closer.

Charlie said everything he shouldn't have said, giving up the secrets of Kingsman in his blind panic, only growing more desperate when their plant stepped away with a dark smirk. The train passed by to reveal Arthur, contempt clear on his face and a sneer in his voice as he told him to, "Untie yourself."

Looking completely unfazed, Merlin swung around to face the two agents and their candidates, nodding to them. "Roxy, Eggsy, well done on being the final candidates. From here on out, there are no safety nets, understand?" He waited until he received dual nods before widening his focus to all of them, ignoring the steel in Harry's glare entirely. "As tradition allows, you now have twenty-four hours to spend with your proposers. Use them wisely." He spun back around to face Charlie, a clear dismissal.  

Eggsy had exchanged a look with Roxy after hearing about the lack of safety nets. If this was safety net, the next bit would be even worse. And then the next bit sunk in. 24 hours? They were getting a break he could spend with Harry?

At the obvious dismissal, Eggsy too turned around to face Harry, looking at him with slightly raised eyebrows. “Lead the way.” He hoped this too wasn't a ruse or trick of some kind; he didn't want to get his hopes up if he was going to fall through a trap door or something on his way out.

Swearing to himself that he could hold it together for the time it took to get back to the house, Harry just nodded at Eggsy, leading him out the door and to the taxi standing ready to take them where they wanted to go. Harry opened the door to the cab, holding it for Eggsy. "Twenty-four hours," he said. "Where do you want to go?"

Eggsy was concentrating on neutrality, hands in his pockets as he followed Harry out, thinking quite longingly of that bed. He slid into the seat in the back of the cab, angled a bit to be sitting slightly facing him. "Eh, your house, yeah? Looking forward to a proper bed for once," he said with a half-grin.

Harry slid in beside him, nodding to the driver and giving him his address. "That's how you want to spend your twenty-four hours?" he asked wryly, arching one eyebrow. "Sleeping?" 

"And playing a few rounds of Most Wanted," Eggsy said dreamily, smiling and looking off into the distance. "And that is all. Nothing else." He lolled his head to look at Harry, smirking lightly.

Figuring Most Wanted was probably one of those video games he'd so often come home to find Eggsy playing, Harry just nodded sagely. "Well, if that's all, I might as well take myself off to the shops," he said. "I'm running low on produce."

"Don't you fucking dare," Eggsy said with a grin, dropping the act. "If I get you for twenty-four hours, I intend on keeping you."

Harry smiled in return, huffing out a soft laugh. "I don't intend on leaving you for produce, I promise," he declared, putting a hand over his heart. 

"Yeah, good. I'm much better than produce," Eggsy snickered, lifting one leg to rest his ankle on his knee in the car. It was nice getting to relax a little, and he was looking forward to arriving back at the house for several reasons, one of which was making his foot bounce in impatience.

Harry was used to waiting, restraining himself. He eyed Eggsy's bouncing foot and couldn't help smirking a little. "It's only a fifteen minute drive, Eggsy." 

"I've been away for weeks, leave me alone,” Eggsy chuckled, resting one of his hands over his foot to keep it still.

"Trust me," Harry sighed, leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes. "I know exactly how long you've been away." 

"You enjoyed being back to your bachelor pad that much?" Eggsy hummed, glancing out the window to see if he recognized where they were, if they were close yet.

That had Harry's eyes flickering open, his head rolling to one side to look over at Eggsy. "No," he said, the fact that Eggsy had nearly died the other day still ringing quite clearly in his head. "I didn't." 

Eggsy turned over to look at Harry again, the corners of his lips pulled up in a small smile. It was just nice to hear he was missed, not just because he'd missed Harry too, but because it was nice to feel that turn around, from required yet not quite wanted houseguest to being actively missed. May have been selfish, but he liked to hear it all the same.

It wasn't much longer before the taxi was pulling up in front of Harry's house, and for the first time in long time, he wasn't getting out alone. He dug his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside, glancing back at Eggsy as he moved out of the entryway.

Eggsy followed in after him, not going incredibly fast as they had 24 full hours and his legs were still kind of sore. After shutting the door behind him and breathing a sigh of relief that no longer were there cameras on him, watching his every move, he followed along right after Harry, pulled along by the sheer magnetism of wanting to touch him again.

Harry made it to the sitting room before he realized how closely he was being followed. He moved to sit on the sofa, reaching out to wrap his hand around Eggsy's wrist and tug him down as well.

A touch on the wrist was almost good enough. More than willing to follow Harry’s lead, Eggsy walked with him to the familiar couch and sat down, letting himself relax a bit. He might have closed his eyes, but every time he did, he saw a bright light in the distance and opened them again.

Harry angled himself to face Eggsy, just watching him in silence for a moment before he cleared his throat. "The next time you have a near death experience, I would appreciate hearing about it through more than just a passing comment," he stated dryly. 

Eggsy refocused on him, eyebrows raising and blinking as he was caught off guard. "I thought you knew," he said with a shrug. "And at the time, I had no idea I was coming home with you. For all I knew, that walk was all I'd be seeing of you for another three weeks, or I'd've been telling you now."

What Eggsy said was true, reasonable even, and Harry knew that, but that still didn't mean he had to like it. "I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "There haven't been any other near misses, have there?" 

Eggsy pursed his lips as he thought. "...nah, just the three. Water, skydive, train. You know all of them, I think."

Closing his mouth on the explanation that the water test hadn't been quite as dangerous as it appeared, Harry nodded. "That, at least, is a relief. And how are you feeling about this whole thing? Still looking forward to this being your life?" 

Eggsy nodded, a half-grin tugging at his lips. "Yeah." He omitted the occasional worry he'd had regarding the difference in treatment he felt from everyone save Merlin and Roxy. Even if that continued, he could get by. And Kingsman was exciting and thrilling enough that even in the face of death, he wouldn't regret his decision, as he’d proved earlier that night (morning? What fucking time was it? How long had he been knocked out?). " _ If _ I beat out Rox."

“If you beat out Roxy, yes," Harry repeated, wondering if he would. The girl seemed tough and had proven herself a likely challenger, even for someone like Eggsy. "Have you thought about what you'll do if you don't?"

"No," Eggsy said, simply shrugging. "Thought I'd cross that bridge when I get to it. Not very moralizing to think about failing." He would probably go back to what he’d been doing before: a lot of nothing. Then figure out something so he didn't blow his brains out in boredom and jealousy, knowing exactly what he was missing out on.

Harry hummed in agreement. He wasn't quite sure what he would do, either, were he in Eggsy's position. He almost had been once, but it had been a long time since he'd had to consider an alternate career path. "You could still be involved in Kingsman, you know," he said after a brief pause. 

Eggsy hadn't considered that. Logically it made sense. Eggsy knew about the organization and was married to an agent, so it wasn't like he could go anywhere, and he had to keep up secrecy anyway. And more importantly, he'd seen other people working there who weren't agents. Not preferable, obviously, not after seeing and being given a taste of spy life, but better than nothing by a long shot. "Could I?" he asked, not sounding enthused as much as hopeful for at least a backup plan.

"If you wanted to, yes. There are positions other than the knights, and I'm sure you could qualify for at least one of them," Harry said. 

Slowly, Eggsy nodded. Anything he could do would be great, any way to stay involved in Kingsman. "Okay. Yeah, I'd look into that if I don't, uh..." He trailed off; this was still a resort-to option. He still very much wanted to win this. 

"Thanks," Eggsy said instead, smiling lightly at him. "Would I still have to have a job at a tech company or something if I'm working in the hangar at Kingsman?" Mostly a joke, veering away from more serious talk of a plan B.

Huh, Eggsy wondered if everyone who worked there under the same secrecy stipulations had to go through the training initiation. At least it would be worth its money.

Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "No, that's exclusive to the knights, and even then we have to volunteer for it." He fell silent for a bit, eyes going slightly unfocused, brow furrowing a bit. "I was actually thinking of dropping that."

"Yeah?" Eggsy didn't know it was volunteer only, which just made the long, long hours of work followed by more work and very minimal sleep even more confusing. "You might run a little better. Get more sleep and shit. I know you might've forgotten, but sleeping in is amazing."

"I haven't slept in for a while," Harry admitted, shrugging one shoulder. He didn't see the value in essentially wasting part of the day, especially when he'd proven he could function quite well without it. 

"We're sleeping in tomorrow then," Eggsy said with a nod, smirking and letting his head tilt to one side. 

Rolling his eyes, Harry just shook his head. "I'm afraid my internal alarm clock might take issue with that plan," he said, sighing dramatically.

"And my arms will take issue with  _ that, _ " Eggsy said, head tilting toward Harry this time. "You're sleeping in, or at least staying put for awhile."

Harry couldn't help it; he snorted in disbelief. "You don't think I could break your grip?" he asked skeptically.

"You're the worst at playing along," Eggsy snickered. "But I dunno, I've never sparred with you. I don't know what you can do," he said as he draped an arm over the back of the couch and hummed innocently.

"You don't honestly think you could beat me in a fist-fight," Harry said, not even bothering to phrase it as a question.

"All I'm saying is, I can't say. Never seen you fight myself outside of once," Eggsy reasoned, eyebrows up as he looked over the sofa, watching while he picked at a thread.

Snorting derisively, Harry just slowly shook his head back and forth. "Amusing as I think it would be to test your theory, I'm not going to fight you." 

"Shame." Eggsy grinned, leaning back against the back of the couch. He did like fighting. And food. And fu- "Rain check, then? We should fight at some point. I should know what my husband's capable of, yeah?" Wiggling his eyebrows, he drew up one of his legs onto the couch, holding his ankle.

"If you become an agent, we could very well get a mission together," Harry commented, glancing over at him. The way Eggsy had his leg lifted was putting him very much on display, and Harry was suddenly reminded of how long it had been since he'd done anything more than kiss Eggsy. 

"That'd be interesting," Eggsy said, completely oblivious to the effect he was having on Harry. And it would be. Doing a mission with Harry would be either really effective or a complete disaster. Whenever they had tried something working together, it had started off awkward as they overthought things, and ended with them working really well. 

Harry was finding it very difficult to concentrate on the thought of an actual mission at that point. "Interesting, yes. Most likely," he said, figuring that was vague enough to fit into the conversation. 

Eggsy snickered then, shrugging for what felt like the umpteenth time. "Deal with that when we get there then, eh? Maybe I'm being a bit optimistic. Only did want to concentrate on today," he added, eyes turning to look at him, really look at him.

"Today seems like a good thing to concentrate on," Harry murmured, only half-focused on the conversation. 

Harry seemed to only be parroting him back, not truly listening. After looking over his face, studying his eyes and the rest of him, Eggsy raised an eyebrow. "Something up, guv?"

That seemed to snap Harry back into it, make him realize how oddly he'd been acting. "I was just thinking," he said quietly, looking away from Eggsy. 

"Sure. What of?" Eggsy blinked, a little surprised at his avoidance.

Taking a page from Eggsy's book, Harry shrugged. "You were right to try and join Kingsman," he admitted after a bit. "Asking you to sit here all day with nothing to do wasn't fair of me."

Eggsy didn't answer for a moment. Yes, he had been sitting there with nothing to do for months, but that wasn't so much Harry's doing as it was his own. He'd never had a job and getting one (which probably would have been in retail, which he would have hated) hadn’t been high on his list. Was that really what Harry was thinking about? He wasn't fully sold. "It wasn't bad or anything," he said vaguely.

"Maybe not," Harry conceded. "But you're like me in several respects, and I wouldn't have been satisfied just sitting here day in and day out with nothing to do."

"...yeah, true," Eggsy said, gaze wandering over in the direction of the television and his gaming system, hooked up, yet untouched for months. "When it got bad enough, I would've talked to you, anyway. Kingsman just happened to pop up at a good time." 

"Yes, James always was helpful that way," Harry drawled, not quite able to ignore a slight twinge of loss. Months took away some of the sting, but the knights tended to be close, given that one generally bonded pretty quickly with someone once they'd saved their life or vice versa.

Eggsy paused, looking over to Harry again. He didn't think he'd been told what the previous Lancelot's name was. And, for which he had a prick of guilt, he had forgotten that the position he was so openly vying for was only vacant because someone, a friend of Harry's, had died. "How long was he there?"

Harry had to think about that for a moment. "Seventeen years," he finally recalled. "He lasted longer than some, shorter than others." Glancing over, he thought he saw a flash of guilt on Eggsy's face. "He knew what he was getting into."

Well, seventeen years sounded like a lot. Eggsy would have had to be... 6? Maybe 7? A little bit less than his entire memory span. He only hummed in acknowledgment.

Harry fell quiet after that, thinking about how young Eggsy was, about how seventeen years wasn't nearly enough. Only barely reaching middle age... He couldn't say he was fond of that plan. Without being entirely aware of what he was doing, he leaned forwards, looking at Eggsy earnestly. "You have to live," he said. "Longer than seventeen years." 

Eggsy looked to him again, one corner of his lips twitching. Harry sounded set, like he somehow had the ability to determine that. "Yeah, that'd be  _ preferable _ ," he said, inclining his head as he spoke.

Normally, Harry thought, he would be able to play it off as a joke, go along with Eggsy's lighter mood, but James’ death was fresh in his mind again for the first time in months. It wasn't an abnormality, or even a surprise, really. Dying in the line of duty was what was  _ expected _ from a Kingsman, and Eggsy was trying his hardest to become one of them, to make that his future. "Eggsy. I mean it. You have to live, I don't want to lo-... lose you," he said, glancing away. It was suddenly very hard to look him in the face.

Harry wasn't joking around. He was being serious, and that made it real. There was a good chance Eggsy would die doing this. Better than good. And, good of an actor that he probably was, Harry didn't seem anything less than sincere when he said he didn't want to lose him, if his inability to look at him was any indication. Harry never had been good at bringing up his feelings to him. 

It... Eggsy hadn't thought Harry regarded him with any kind of strength of feeling in that way.  _ He  _ looked at Harry like that. He had been relieved when he woke from his coma, always happy when he was okay. He was just surprised Harry seemed to genuinely worry over him as well, beyond the scope of candidate or roommate with benefits like he'd thought.

"...Harry," Eggsy said, scooting closer towards him on the couch. "I'll be careful, yeah? I ain't too keen on losing you either," he said with a half-smile, reaching out with his hand to touch Harry’s leg above the knee, wanting to touch him somewhere at least.

That promise was all he could reasonably expect from Eggsy, Harry figured. Didn't make the prospect of him throwing himself into danger any better but, then again, that was what he did all day long. He'd seen the way Eggsy reacted when he got hurt. Eggsy genuinely seemed to want him to be safe, and yet he went off every day specifically to put himself in harm's way.

When Eggsy’s hand fell to his leg, Harry glanced up at him again, releasing the breath he'd unconsciously been holding. "I've proven difficult to kill," he said with a small smile in return. 

"Yeah, good," Eggsy said, his almost smile growing to a real one as Harry smiled at him too, pleased at the de-stressing, however minimal. "That pattern had better hold." He hesitated for second, but scooted over a few inches more, letting himself lean into Harry's side. While his head did not touch him, it tilted toward him, his hand still resting gently on his leg.

Harry welcomed the sudden heat at his side, liking the reminder that, despite the morbidity of his thoughts, Eggsy was well and truly alive. And dammit he was going to take advantage of it. He wound his arm around Eggsy’s shoulder, trailing his fingers down his arm.

Humming once, a pleased sound he couldn't keep back even if he wanted to, which he didn't, Eggsy relaxed against him a bit more. He wondered how long it would be before he stopped hesitating, for Harry's initial dislike of being touched to wear off and Eggsy to touch him boldly. 

Harry thought it might be nice to just spend the rest of the 24 hours like that, Eggsy curled up against his side, for once not really thinking about anything. 

Eggsy drew up his legs, sighing contentedly. After being away, constantly working and training and running around non stop, it felt so nice to just sit against his husband, feel his heat and the comfort of his presence. 

After a few minutes, Eggsy shifted enough to be able to look at him, lifting one of his hands to touch his face as he liked to do. His lips parted, as though he were about to speak, eyes searching his for something, but he decided against saying anything, choosing instead to lean forward and press his lips to Harry's in a near featherlight touch.

Harry's eyes half closed as Eggsy's hand lifted to his face, a soft sigh escaping him. He'd never had something like this before, not even with Hannah. He’d never had someone who could make him relax just by touching him, make his heart beat faster with something that wasn't even really a kiss. The hand that had been sliding down Eggsy's arm relocated to the back of his neck, fingers combing through the short hairs there.

What Merlin had said earlier clicked into place. Apparently, he had seen what Harry himself had not, realized that he was in love before he himself had. That was what made the difference, Harry realized. That was what set Eggsy apart from everyone else. And he had to tell him, especially given what he'd found out. Eggsy could die without ever knowing, and he didn't want that.

He pulled Eggsy in for a soft, slow kiss. When he pulled away, his eyes remained closed and his fingers tightened their hold slightly. "I love you," he breathed.

Eggsy answered the kiss easily, cradling his face gently in hand as he kissed him back, slow and sweet. They had the rest of the night, they had hours, and while he at some point wanted to seduce Harry, he was happy to take it slow. Kissing Harry had become one of his favourite things; he could do it all night.

When Harry pulled back, he had expected a comment of some sort, something to make him grin or turn himself onto his lap for more. The absolute last thing he expected was a declaration of love.

Eggsy’s eyes, half-closed, flew open, and he could swear his heart stopped. He must have misheard him. Better yet, Harry must have misspoken. He didn't love him, he couldn't. It just... He  _ couldn't. _ Was he thinking of someone else? Picturing his ex-wife?

"Harry," Eggsy said quietly, confusion evident. "...you know it's me, yeah?"

While that hadn't quite been the reaction he'd expected, Harry had to admit it was very characteristic of him. Chuckling, he opened his eyes and pulled away far enough so that he could clearly see Eggsy's face. "Yes, I know it's you," he said, eyes flicking from Eggsy’s lips to his eyes. "And I meant it."

But Harry didn't expect it back. That would be too much, he knew, from someone who'd had no say in the matter in the first place and had just been stuck with the first man who'd come along to take him. That didn't make it any less true, just a little more painful to say. But Harry would deal with it, just as he dealt with everything else. 

Eggsy's heart tightened in his throat. Harry meant it. He knew it was him, and he stuck by it.

Harry loved him.

Everything he'd seen in movies and on telly told Eggsy it was time for him to say 'I love you, too,' and lean in for more kisses, clinging onto him and clutching at his back. And he wanted to, he did. He wanted to fulfill that part, watch Harry’s eyes as he said it, but... He was so confused with how he felt about Harry. He did care about him, he liked him very much, but he'd never said it before. Sure, Eggsy enjoyed being with him more than anyone else, and yeah, his smile made him feel warm in his chest. Okay, he savored every kiss, and could spend all night just being next to him... Fuck. He might be in love.

But Eggsy needed a bit of time to think. He wasn't ready. He wanted time to accept that Harry was being honest with him, to form the words he wanted to say. Rather than actually say it, he leaned back in, stealing his lips again in another kiss, harder and more insistent than the softness of the last. 

Harry didn't know exactly what the kiss was, but he wasn't going to pull away from it. If this was what Eggsy needed to figure things out, he was more than willing to give it to him. And if he didn't ever say anything, that was okay too, Harry would live with that. He'd just needed Eggsy to  _ know.  _

As always, Eggsy’s hands wound around Harry’s back and curled into the fabric of the suit he still wore as his eyes closed tightly. Eggsy’s chest felt tight, the word 'love' stuck in his head, and he broke away just enough to be careful as he swung himself on top of Harry’s lap, straddling him with his knees. All he could think was how he wanted to be close to him, taste him.

The slight shock of disappointment Harry felt when Eggsy broke away was immediately washed away when Eggsy swung into his lap, the weight of him settling on his legs. He ran his hands down his back, stopping just above the base of his spine, fingertips edging into the waistband of his pants. He tilted his head back, letting Eggsy reach his lips. 

Eggsy’s lips greedily sought after Harry's, and inched up on his lap as his neck had to crane down to properly reach him. Though their bodies were pressed pretty closely together, he didn't feel like it was enough. Even with their lips connected, his tongue licking into Harry’s mouth, with the warm hard solidity of his body beneath him, with their hips and chests close as they could be in this position, Eggsy wanted more, to feel him everywhere. He made a humming noise against his lips.

Harry wanted to look at Eggsy, see his lips swollen and glistening red, his half-lidded, lust-blown eyes, the way his body curved into his own, but he'd have to break away from him to do that. And at the moment, that wasn't sounding all that appealing. His tongue slid past Eggsy's, exploring his mouth even though he knew most of it by now. Didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the taste. He swallowed down the small noise Eggsy made, arms tightening around his hips in response.

This was exactly the sort of thing Eggsy had been picturing more recently during the short yet wakeful nights in the barracks, lying on his back with his eyes closed and hands subtly gripping the sheets. He kissed and kissed until he needed to breathe, pulling back only an inch or two to pant not far from him. "Harry," he muttered just above a whisper to get his attention, his hands finding their way to rest on his shoulders.

Rather reluctantly given how much he'd just been wishing he could look at Eggsy, Harry peeled his eyes open, head tilting to one side curiously. 

Eggsy pulled back a bit more to get a proper look at Harry. "...you're sure?" He was looking at Harry seriously, his eyebrows pulled together and tilted upward while his eyes squinted slightly, defensive as though expecting his mind to have changed in less than five minutes. As though such a thing wasn't really possible, or some joke he was taking sincerely. He just needed to hear it again, wanting to hear that despite all the garbage in his life (only some of which Harry knew about) and all the poor choices and fuck ups littering the road to the man he was becoming rather proud of turning into, somehow, someone loved him. And not just any someone, Harry. He was incredible, he was amazing, he was his husband already. Eggsy was so very lucky he'd stumbled blindly into this.

Harry didn't answer right away. He pulled his hands around so they were resting more on Eggsy’s hips than his arse, leaning the upper half of his body back into the sofa so he could meet Eggsy's eyes more easily. "I know exactly who you are, Eggsy. You're my husband, the man I've been married to for nearly a year." He leaned forward to place a very brief kiss on his lips before leaning back again. "I know that your stepfather is the only reason we ever even met. I know that Kingsman could take you away from me, or me from you. And I also know," here he took Eggsy's hands in his own, tangling their fingers together, "that I love every part of you."

Eggsy's throat tightened again. As their fingers entwined, he held onto his hands, eyes flitting between them and Harry’s face. He wanted to say something nice, to let out the 'I love you, too' that burned in his throat to break out. But as his mouth opened, he was horrified to find that was not at all what came out. 

"Do you know I used to do drugs? Do you know I pickpocketed people on the underground and learned how to break into the good cars and the good locks? Do you know I was a rent-boy when money was tight?" That last part was said more quietly, Eggsy unable to meet Harry’s eyes. It was like he was trying to ruin it, to make Harry take it back. Trying to prove that Harry couldn't possibly love him, that someone like him didn't fall in love with someone like Eggsy. 

The flood of confessions that came pouring out gave Harry pause, made him blink as he took them all in. Once he'd fallen silent again, Harry sighed softly. "Look at me, Eggsy." 

Sighing himself, Eggsy reluctantly raised his eyes, looking at him as he chewed his tongue.

"When I said I loved every part of you, that included the ones I didn't know about yet, and the ones I still don't," Harry assured him once Eggsy had met his gaze. "Drugs, petty crime, sex... none of that changes anything." 

That just didn't make sense, how, how could he still-? While Eggsy was confused, he was also relieved. That was almost all of the worst of him, spewed out and laid bare all at once. He leaned in, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips, stalling and lingering a bit before pressing their foreheads together. "I love you too, Harry," he said softly, tightening his hands on his coat.

Harry's heart stuttered and there was an embarrassing hitch in his chest, breath catching audibly for a moment. "You don't have to say it," he murmured once he'd recovered enough to be able to breathe normally again. "Just because I did." He didn't want to hear it out of a misguided sense of obligation, would rather not hear it at all if that was the case. 

The hitch in his breath made Eggsy smile, his nerves calming somewhat at any sort of response from him. "I didn't," he said quietly, eyes closed. "I do love you." He'd just been afraid, for many reasons, and hadn't realized that was what he had been feeling. But when Harry said it, he knew. 

"Eggsy," Harry breathed. He didn't even mean to, the word was just sort of pulled from him without any conscious thought, and he cupped one hand around his cheek thinking that he'd been incredibly lucky. Not only had he actually managed to fall in love, the person that he'd fallen in love with actually returned the feeling. 

Eggsy’s smile only grew, previous worries melting away in the face of happiness. He'd have to send Dean a thank you card for pawning him off on the right person. It was hard to imagine such an amazing stroke of luck, falling in love with the husband of an arranged marriage, could have happened with anyone else. And Eggsy didn't want anyone else. Over the course of the almost-year, he'd watched as Harry stayed exactly the same but changed in front of his eyes. When they'd gotten together, he'd said he would make do, that Harry certainly wouldn't have been his pick, but he could adjust. Now it was hard to imagine picking anyone else. 

Slowly, Harry drew Eggsy's face down to his, wanting to savor the moment and brand it in his mind. It wasn't something he ever wanted to forget; he wanted to be able to replay every second of it in perfect clarity. The way Eggsy's voice sounded when he said it, the look in his eyes when they met his own, the way his fingers tightened just slightly around his own. Not one detail could be considered unimportant. He leaned forward to close the small gap between them, lips pressing against Eggsy's hungrily.

Eggsy's lips responded before he did, kissing him back on a quiet exhale, his head tilting and body pressing closer into him again. As before, he wanted to be as close as he could be, his knees tightening around Harry’s thighs. He didn't want to stop, didn't want to get off of him, but a part of him did want to move away from the couch now, maybe upstairs so he could lie down with him. And grab his ring again. Surely he could put it back on now, at the final two.

Harry arched forwards, bringing their chests solidly together, hands grabbing at his back to press him closer. He'd been deprived of kissing Eggsy for  _ months _ and didn't feel like they'd even started to gain back the time they'd lost. Eventually, he had to breathe again, and he broke away panting.

When Harry broke away from him, Eggsy didn't much want to stop. One of his hands touched his neck up into his hair, fingers gently threading through as his lips kept pressing kisses down Harry’s jaw and to his neck. It left him bent a little funny, his back arched to keep sitting on his lap.

Hands roaming up and down Eggsy's back, Harry let out a contented hum at the slew of kisses. "The one good thing that could come out of you failing to make it into Kingsman," he murmured softly, "would be that you wouldn't have to spend months away on missions."

The kisses paused for a moment after Harry spoke, but started up again all the same as Eggsy thought that through. That was true, he supposed. They would have time together whenever Harry was home, not run the risk of one of them being sent out right after the other. "True," he conceded, lightly nipping and sucking one specific spot on Harry’s neck, not enough to leave a mark, just enough to play with him. "I'd miss you quite a bit if I had no chance of seeing you for awhile."

Harry couldn't hold back a sudden gasp at the sensation of teeth scraping along his neck, warm tongue laving over the spot right after. His hands paused in their movement, fingertips digging into the fabric of Eggsy’s shirt. "Don't let that stop you from trying."

"I won't," Eggsy promised, finding the spot where he could feel his heart beating through his lips as he pressed a kiss there before nipping him again. "Might sign you up for Snapchat, though," he said with a grin in his voice, the hand in Harry’s hair gently grabbing a fistful to hang there.

Humming, Harry tilted his head to the side, exposing more of his neck. "And what, exactly, is a Snapchat?" he asked, the term unfamiliar to him.

Eggsy almost chuckled. He hummed as he pressed another open-mouthed kiss to Harry’s neck, his lips still brushing against him as he answered. "Image sharing app. Send a photo for ten seconds or less and then it's gone. Very useful sometimes."

Harry snorted, not quite grasping the utility of the thing. "If I'm going to see you, I want it to be for more than ten seconds," he pointed out.

"You might be missing the point, luv." Eggsy did chuckle this time, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of Harry’s lips.

Harry stole another proper kiss from him before bothering to reply, trying to ignore the sudden warmth in his chest at the casual “luv” Eggsy slipped in. "Enlighten me, then."

Eggsy sat back in his lap, watching as he played with locks of his hair. "If I want you to save the photo, I'll just send it. If I want to talk, I'll use FaceTime or Skype. Ten seconds can be useful for other shit," he smirked, gently squeezing his legs. "...plus I can draw on them. Nice use of time during those missions that are waiting for hours that Merlin mentioned."

"I think you'll find that there are parts of being a spy that are rather boring," Harry commented dryly. His hands fell from Eggsy's back to his thighs and he ran them slowly down to his knees before trailing them back up again. 

"I can already tell. But the exciting balances it out." Eggsy’s hands abandoned Harry's hair and shoulders, sliding from his arms to his wrists. Tugging gently, he guided them to slide back down to his thighs, hands resting gently over Harry's.

Harry just shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Exciting might not be the word I would use for it, but yes. I suppose there are some parts that more than make up for all the dull paperwork one has to sit through." 

"You're really selling it," Eggsy grinned, his head tilting slightly. "Months away, lots of time waiting, dull paperwork, sounds like the actiony shit I'm almost being run over by a train for." 

One of Harry's eyebrows arched. "If Kingsman ever gets a PR team, I'll be sure to apply for it," he said, hands inching further up Eggsy's legs as he spoke. 

"You'd be the best. Lines out the door." Lips twitching, Eggsy leaned in to steal another kiss, lingering there for an extra second. "Alright, come on," he said rather abruptly, climbing off his lap slowly, almost reluctantly. "I ain't wasting more of my one night on this sofa."

Harry instantly missed Eggsy's weight as soon as it was gone, and he glanced up at him in slight surprise. "Do I need to buy a more comfortable sofa?" he asked wryly, hauling himself to his feet as well. 

"The amount of time I spend on that thing, I wouldn't say no," Eggsy said with a smirk, reaching to grab Harry’s wrist and start tugging him toward the stairs.

Harry hadn't thought he was being serious, but maybe he should actually consider updating some of his furniture. "Do you really want a new sofa?" he pressed, following after him. 

"I wouldn't say no," Eggsy repeated, shrugging his shoulders. It wasn't the worst couch in the world, but it definitely had that stiffness of being owned by someone who didn't use it much. It hadn't been the most fun to hang out on all day, but he'd managed to make his corner at least comfy. 

Eggsy continued to tug his wrist gently, leading him up the stairs and into the bedroom. While one part of him wanted to push Harry up against the door and start making out with him until Harry was pulling his clothes off, as soon as Eggsy saw the bed, tiredness won out. He started toeing off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket, wanting to just collapse onto it.

Mentally resolving to pencil furniture shopping somewhere into his schedule, Harry trailed after Eggsy up the steps. He hardly ever used the couch, so he'd never noticed whether or not it was comfortable, but he figured Eggsy would know better than he would. 

They reached the bedroom and Harry glanced over at Eggsy as he tossed his jacket and shoes aside. "Long day?" he teased.

In response, Eggsy continued stripping off his clothing, tugging his shirt up and over his head, and tossing it over in the direction of Harry's face. "You would know," he smirked, unfastening his belt as he spoke, inching toward the side of the bed he was used to sleeping on.

Harry caught the shirt before it could fly into his face, folding it up neatly and moving to set it on top of the dresser. He only hummed in agreement, fingers beginning to tug at the knot in his tie, loosening it before he pulled it over his head and set it aside. 

In no time flat, Eggsy was stripped down to his boxer briefs and climbing into the large bed, shooing away some of Harry's pillows and wiggling comfortably under the sheets. "Mmmm," he hummed, near moaning his appreciation. He had forgotten how wonderful the sheets felt against his legs and how cushy the mattress was at his back. "I’m never leaving. Fuck the last test, I'm staying here," he said, words thicker than usual as his cheek was busy running against a pillow.

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Eggsy as he slipped out of his suit jacket, moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. "I don't know if I'd really be able to complain about that," he said. It took him a bit longer to get ready than it had Eggsy; he had more to remove and he hung it all up neatly afterwards, but eventually he was slipping into bed beside him. 

"Mm, good, but you're not going anywhere either." As soon as Eggsy felt the shift of weight on the mattress near him, he rolled over to face Harry. Though his eyes were mostly closed, his arm was ready to flop lazily over a body part once Harry had settled.

"I agreed to the sleeping in, not to the staying in bed forever," Harry protested, pulling the covers up. He lay on his back, head turned so he could see Eggsy.

"We can renegotiate in the morning," Eggsy said with a slight smirk, inching over enough to drape his arm gently over Harry's middle. 

Laughing softly, Harry nodded, crossing his arm over his chest to trail his fingertips lightly down Eggsy's back. "Goodnight, Eggsy."

As his back was touched, Eggsy’s eyes closed, his body melting into the bed. "Night, Harry," he hummed back.


	22. A Fitting

The day hadn't taken as much of a toll on Harry as it had on Eggsy, and he stayed awake for a while after, blinking up at the ceiling and wondering why it had taken him so long to realize what he felt. He didn't have much of a standard of comparison, but it was still disquieting to know that there were some things he just couldn't realize about himself. He glanced down at Eggsy, watching the gentle rise and fall of his ribs as he breathed, eyes sliding closed slowly until he too was able to fall asleep. 

As Eggsy slept through the night, some of the recent traumas began to affect him, manifesting in his sleep. While he was fine during the day, his usual happy self, at night his body went through dealing with it all. Unpleasant dreams of falling were occasional now, a small frown twitching on his face as he slept, his body also giving occasional twitches when dreams got bad. 

One of these must have been particularly bad as it partially roused him, Eggsy’s eyes half-opening blearily. He made a mumbling noise, rolling himself into the warmth of Harry's body, draping nearly half of his body on top of him this time with his head on his shoulder, leg between his, and arm less draping and more loosely holding as his forearm lined up against Harry’s ribcage. He fell back to sleep easily after that, holding onto something -- like he had with pillows -- good enough for his sleeping brain to quiet the twitchings and dreams. 

As soon as Eggsy shifted on top of him, Harry woke. He quickly assessed that there wasn't any danger and that Eggsy wasn't even truly awake and didn't bother rousing him further, just waited until he'd resettled himself and his eyes had closed again. It only took him a few minutes to drift back off, the warm heat of Eggsy more comforting than disturbing.

Eggsy slept on, briefly waking at six in the morning out of habit as that was usually when he had to wake up in the barracks. But damn it, he was sleeping in. Making himself fall back asleep, he didn't even let his eyes open until his internal clock said 9, wherein he sighed and nuzzled into Harry, letting himself slowly wake up.

Harry woke, as he usually did, quite early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. He opened his eyes to complete darkness, letting them adjust before he glanced down at Eggsy, still sleeping peacefully. He could, he supposed, try to slip out of bed without waking him and start preparing for the day, but he had told Eggsy he'd sleep in with him. Apparently that was going to mean lying awake until Eggsy decided he'd slept in long enough, but he didn't really mind.

As the minutes ticked by, Harry found his eyelids sinking lower and lower, lulled by the soft sound of Eggsy's breathing. To his surprise, he was blinking awake again hours later, having actually fallen back asleep. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was a bit after nine and Eggsy also seemed to be stirring if the way he was rubbing against his shoulder was any indication.

The change in breathing and slight moving of the head told him Harry was awake, so he may as well actually start getting up. Groaning from the monumental effort, Eggsy rolled off of him to properly let himself stretch on his back beside him, twisting this way and that. "Mmm, I'm proud of you," he said with a lazy grin, rolling back onto his side and resting a hand on Harry’s chest rather than flopping back completely on top of him. "You didn’t ditch me."

Rolling his shoulders to stretch himself out a bit, Harry arched one eyebrow. "I did consider it," he admitted. "But I fell back asleep before I could convince myself to get out of bed." 

"...less proud," Eggsy said with a snicker, nudging one of Harry’s legs with his own. "But better than nothing. Nice to wake up on your own terms, innit?" 

Harry shrugged one shoulder, furrowing his brow and pretending to give the question serious consideration. "I feel like I have considerably less time in my day," he concluded. 

"Oh shut it," Eggsy snorted, pushing him lightly. "Less time for what, reading the paper?" He pressed his lips to Harry's shoulder, an idle sort of affection. "It's only what, nine in the morning? You've got all day."

"Mmm, I suppose you're right," Harry conceded with a sigh, hand sliding up Eggsy’s back to the nape of his neck, fingers threading into his hair. 

Humming at the hand in his hair, Eggsy shifted himself a bit to press more kisses to Harry’s neck and jaw, the warmth and comfort of the mattress and covers making him slow and contented.

One of Harry's arms wrapped around Eggsy's waist, hand resting in the small of his back as he pulled him closer. 

Letting himself run with it, though thinking he'd be stopped and was willing to pull back when that happened, Eggsy’s kisses drew up higher, gently pressing to Harry’s lips as he rubbed his chest with his fingertips.

Harry's lips parted slightly, tongue lazily poking out to swipe over Eggsy's. He shifted minutely, angling himself more towards Eggsy instead of lying so stiffly on his back.

Lips parting, Eggsy kissed him as his eyes slid closed. He shifted a bit as well, moving so they were pressed almost as close as they could get. His hand slid down on Harry, from his chest to his side then down to his hip and up again slowly, liking simply touching him.

Harry hummed into his mouth as it opened, tongue sliding inside slowly, savoring the taste of him. He moved his hands down until they were gripping Eggsy's hips, tightening as he pulled Eggsy practically on top of him, legs parting so he could settle between them. 

Quite willingly, Eggsy followed his tugging, settling his knees and weight between his legs and resting his body flush against Harry's. He tilted his head to kiss him more comfortably, reluctant to break away from him, and supported himself with one arm propping him up at the side. His other hand continued to touch Harry, fingers running up and down his side.

Harry's hands started at Eggsy’s shoulders, tracing a path down his spine and following the swell of his arse until his hands were placed solidly over it.

Playfully, Eggsy pushed back into his hands once they stopped moving. He backed off from the kiss, wanting to stop before his lungs started to protest, and compensated by pressing small kisses to his face.

Encouraged by the way Eggsy pressed into him, Harry squeezed, thumbs digging into the small of his back.

Squeezing earned him a pleased hum, Eggsy’s hips rolling back into his hands and forward into his thigh, the hand that had been running down his side stilling and holding onto his hip.

As Eggsy's hips moved, his stomach brushed against the junction between Harry's legs, the slight friction just enough to send up a small spark of pleasure but not nearly enough to do anything else. He repeated the action, not loosening his grip. 

After he squeezed again, Eggsy nipped his throat, licking over the spot with his tongue. He kept himself still this time, hoping for more.

Harry let go, fingers creeping towards the waistline of Eggsy’s boxers instead, curling under and peeling them down slowly. 

Eggsy smirked against his neck, moving his hips to help make the tugging a little easier. He leaned back up, stealing his lips for a harder kiss than before.

Once Eggsy had raised his hips, the going was easier, and Harry worked his boxers down as far as he could reach. He kissed Eggsy back, arching his neck off the pillow slightly for more leverage. 

Carefully, Eggsy reached down and lifted his body enough to actually toss the undergarment away uncaringly. When he returned, he repositioned himself so Harry could keep touching his arse if he wanted, low enough for his hardening cock to press against Harry’s inner thigh. Still smirking internally, he pulled Harry's bottom lip into his mouth to suck on it once.

Harry moaned, the sound prompted both by the heat of Eggsy between his legs and the sting of teeth on his bottom lip. His hands took up their former position, skin to skin this time.

With Eggsy's cock pressing lightly against his leg, Harry surely must have felt the rapid hardening during and after his moan, fully hard by the time fingers squeezed the bare flesh of his arse again. Turning his hips a bit, he took to rubbing Harry's crotch with his own through his boxers while he continued to kiss him, a little sloppier and dirtier than the other kisses had been.

Not expecting Eggsy to suddenly be rubbing into him, Harry's hips bucked up involuntarily, back arching off the mattress slightly. He used his grip on Eggsy’s arse to guide his movements, rolling Eggsy against him and shuddering at the sensation.

Eggsy only barely needed the guiding suggestion, his body only too happy to rub up against Harry, seeking the heat of his body and the friction it produced. He broke away from his lips again to pant above him, head ducked and a half-smirk pulling at his lips even as he hummed and murmured an almost inaudible 'fuck.' His hand splayed on Harry's leg, sliding up and under the fabric of his boxers to touch his skin, sliding to the waistband and grabbing all the material in his fist, tugging even as he kept it in place with the motion of his hips.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows, levering himself into something closer to a sitting position. He mouthed at Eggsy's neck in an attempt to muffle the ragged gasps pulled out of him, breath hot against Eggsy’s skin. 

Eggsy’s head lifted and tilted as he felt lips at his neck, the hot breath, the sound of vaguely repressed noises, the direct pleasure he was getting from friction and feeling Harry underneath him all making his stomach muscles clench and heat spread throughout him. "Harry," he said under his breath, tugging again at the fabric still in his fist.

Though barely audible, Harry caught his name, felt the insistent tug on his boxers. "Eggsy," he mumbled, lips brushing against his throat as they moved. He braced himself with one hand, lifting his hips off the bed just far enough to let Eggsy tug them down. 

As soon as he was able to, Eggsy tugged them down one-handed as far as he could, maneuvering himself to his side rather than between his legs to get them down without his own body in the way. 

With Eggsy to one side and his boxers going down, Harry suddenly found himself exposed, a small shiver running through him at the rush of cool air. 

He wasn't exposed for long, lust compelling Eggsy to take him in hand, to touch and feel him, looking down at his cock as he gave several good pumps of the wrist. "Lube?" he asked quietly, leaning into Harry again to press his lips gently to the curve of his eye, soft in stark contrast to the movement of his hand.

As soon as Eggsy's hand wrapped around him, Harry felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through him, the feeling settling low in his gut. It only grew as he continued, each movement of his hand sparking another aftershock. Vaguely, he was aware that Eggsy had asked him a question and therefore required an answer, and he was fairly certain the answer was yes. "Nightstand, top drawer," he muttered, voice steadier than he had expected it to be.

Breathing a sigh as he nudged Harry's face with his own, Eggsy pulled back, leaning over to the bedside table and pulling open the drawer. Blindly pushing objects around, he found the bottle he was looking for and retrieved it, so enveloped in what he was doing that he didn't remember to close it. Eggsy's body working without his mind's input, he bent over, taking Harry’s cock into his mouth briefly, sucking and running his tongue over the tip just enough to taste him and let him feel the warm wetness of his mouth as he popped open the lid in his hands. 

After getting a generous amount on his hands, Eggsy released him with his mouth in favour of continuing his stroking, eyes flicking up to Harry’s face as he did so.

Harry's eyes fluttered closed at the first touch of Eggsy's tongue to his cock, his body slumping back down onto the mattress from his half-seated position. There wasn't even time to feel disappointed that the wet heat of his mouth was gone before his hand was there, sliding up and down his shaft, prompting his fingers to dig into the sheets, his mouth opening in a low, appreciative moan. 

Eggsy's eyes fixed to his face as his hand moved almost mechanically, and he bit his lip unconsciously. He could honestly do this until Harry came and he wouldn't be all that disappointed, satisfied just by watching and seeing that he was so clearly pleasing him. "Harry," he said quietly, hand slowing to a lazy stroke just to hold his attention. If he could do both at once, he would, but it didn't seem possible with this angle. He nudged the bottle on the bed closer to one of his hands.

At the sound of his name, Harry opened his eyes, glancing down to see Eggsy's hand still wrapped around his cock. His attention was diverted as he felt the bottle knock against his hand. Taking the hint, he released the sheet and picked it up instead, spilling it onto the palms of his hands and getting back into a sitting position, beckoning to Eggsy.

Eggsy would have kept going, kept stroking and playing with him, but that was hard to do from a sitting position. Abandoning it and keeping his sticky hand off the bedding, he scooted over to Harry, away from his legs.

Harry recaptured his lips as he wrapped his newly lubed hand around Eggsy's cock, slowly stroking up and down.

Kissing him back rather eagerly, Eggsy was almost surprised as the slightly cold hand wrapped around him, the sudden shiver of pleasure racing down his spine pulling a quiet moan out of his mouth and into Harry's.

Drinking down the sound, Harry didn't let up on his movements, giving Eggsy a couple more strokes before releasing him. He ran his hands around his waist, one finger pressing at his hole before he paused.

Eggsy whined a sulky sound when he was let go, though refused to stop kissing Harry even as his hands slid around his body. The touch of the finger made his back muscles tense with anticipation, his arse wiggling minutely when Harry stopped moving.

At Eggsy's insistence, Harry eased his finger inside, circling around the tight furl of muscle once before truly pushing in. He caught Eggsy's lip with his teeth, tugging it gently.

If Eggsy could swear, he would have. One of his hands grabbed the sheets as Harry's finger pushed into him, his other lifting to hold the back of Harry’s neck.

Harry didn't waste much time teasing him, almost immediately sliding his finger in and out. He did start out slow enough to let Eggsy get used to it before increasing his pace, releasing his lip in favor of mouthing at his jaw. 

His mouth free, Eggsy bit on his lip, muttering a quiet 'fuck' as Harry began to finger fuck him to loosen his muscles up. It was both satisfying and maddening. He knew they had to go slow enough to make sure he wouldn't be hurt later, but it left him wanting more, biting down on his lip.

Smirking in response to Eggsy's curse, Harry added another finger on his next thrust. He slid in and out a couple more times before crooking it enough to graze his prostate on the way out.

"Christ, Harry-" Eggsy gasped as a spike of pleasure shot through him, letting go of his lip to grin. The fingers felt so good, and his hips pushed back towards him of their own accord.

Nearly chuckling at Eggsy's enthusiasm, Harry repeated the action consistently, dragging the pad of his index finger across it every time he pulled out. 

Eggsy could have cum from that in a very short amount of time, almost embarrassingly short. After stealing a kiss from him, he started pulling back, considering that to be good enough as it was; he could deal. "Lie back, yeah?" he said, moving to climb over Harry again.

Once Eggsy started pulling away, Harry withdrew. His brow furrowed when he told him to lie back, but he complied anyways, leaning his head back against his pillow and tilting it to the side curiously.

Eggsy only smirked, moving the covers all the way away so he could properly throw one leg over Harry and straddle his waist, lifting himself in the air. Blindly, he took Harry in his hand again, holding his cock upright at an angle that would be ideal for him to slide down on as he leaned down again for another kiss. He guided the tip to just press against his hole, not yet pushing down on him.

It became clear what Eggsy was planning on doing the second he threw off the covers and slung himself over Harry's legs. His eyes closed as their lips met again, parting in something near a moan as Harry felt the head of his cock just pushing at the edge of Eggsy’s hole.

Despite how much he wanted to just sink down completely onto him, Eggsy teased himself with him first, enjoying the moan and kisses and rubbing against him for one extra second before he pushed himself down on him. He moaned into Harry’s mouth as he slowly lowered himself until he was seated fully on him.

The almost lazy way Eggsy sank down on him was nearly torture, Harry fighting the urge to buck his hips up and hurry the process along. He kissed him ravenously, hands moving to his hips, his arse, the small of his back, seemingly unable to settle in one place. 

Eggsy kissed him back just as hungrily, bracing himself with his hands on either side of Harry's shoulders and knees by his ribs as he rather gracelessly lifted himself almost all the way off of him and let gravity slam him back down. There was a time for slow and gentle fucks, but that didn't feel like now. Right now what he wanted was Harry's cock fucking into him hard and fast. That's what he gave to himself, bouncing up and down quickly and rather roughly, tongue aggressively seeking his to rub and taste while every odd thrust pulled strained groans from his throat.

Harry's hands moved with him, sliding up to the middle of his ribcage as he lifted himself up and moving back down to his hips whenever he dropped again. For a short while, he let Eggsy get into a sort of rhythm before he also began to move, thrusting his hips up to meet him as he came back down, back arching slightly off the bed. 

While the rhythm he'd established for himself had been nice, Eggsy had to concentrate on it, his rising and falling straining his thighs. The hands on him felt good, and he almost didn't notice the slight tightening just before Harry thrust up into him. He broke away from the kiss to toss his head back as he nearly choked "Fuck-!" He gasped a breath as he lifted back up and slammed down again, red creeping up his neck as the heat in his abdomen burned.

Harry couldn't even be disappointed with the abrupt end of the kiss, not with the way Eggsy reacted so enthusiastically, the pale line of his neck invitingly exposed, his mouth stretched open as he cursed. A few more thrusts of his hips and he could feel a tight coil of heat building up. His hands tightened around Eggsy, and he gasped out desperately, "Stop, Eggsy, you have to stop. I'm going to-"

But Eggsy was barely listening, his orgasm so close that his body didn't want to stop, his muscles tightening as he bounced up and down to meet Harry’s thrusts. All at once as he slid down again, Harry's cock hit his nerves, the bubble of warmth in him instantly bursting as his orgasm flooded over him. Thanking God they were alone in the house, he made a rather loud moan in sheer surprise, his back straightening upright and then arching as his hips jerked of their own accord, his cum shooting out in a few spurts on Harry's stomach and chest. "HarryHarryHarry--" he groaned as he rode him through it, eyes that had squeezed shut reopening to look down at him in a haze.

Harry couldn't even attempt to hold his own orgasm back after a display like that, after Eggsy moaned his name, muscles tightening around him, ropes of cum painting his torso. He came with one final buck of his hips, fingers digging into Eggsy's waist with enough force to bruise, breath ripped from him harsh and ragged. For a moment, he forgot whatever it was he'd been so worried about, caught up in a blissful high.

Even as Eggsy felt warmth shooting inside him that wasn't his own body's, he was hardly in the proper state to reason anything out about it. Instead, a shiver ran down his spine at the feeling, loving it, letting it complement the slow, reluctant descent from one of the best climaxes he'd had in months, easily. Feeling his own heartbeat around Harry's cock, he slowly peeled off of him, flopping on the bed beside him, a hand rubbing in his hair as he tried to get his breath back.

It took a bit for Harry to come back to himself, especially with the way Eggsy was lying beside him, panting and looking positively debauched. It was a slow thing, but it eventually did happen, and with the return of reason came a slight nudging of dread. "Eggsy," he said, not really wanting to ruin the moment, but not wanting to push this off either. "I wasn't... I didn't have... We forgot the condom."

"...what?" Eggsy frowned, turning his head slowly to look at him in slight confusion. He could have sworn they’d remembered. They must have, because he remembered kissing Harry and touching him and asking for the lube and pulling out the bottle and a cond- Oh. Oh no, he didn't, he'd been too into the moment to think that far ahead at the time. "...shhhhhhhit," he sighed, hating that something as amazing as that romp was ended with worry and anxiety weighing him down. 

Harry propped himself up enough to lean over and kiss him softly. "We'll handle it, whatever happens," he said, trying to sound more reassuring than he felt. 

Gratefully, Eggsy kissed him back. He didn't want to think about this. It was probably nothing, after all. 

They forgot one time, lesson learned, they'd be more careful from now on. That was all there was to it. 

When Harry pulled back, Eggsy gave him a small smile, appreciating the reassurance if nothing else. "It's probably nothing," he said, though he didn't quite meet his eyes as he said it.

Harry nodded, flopping back onto the mattress and looking up at the ceiling instead. "I would be inclined to agree. The position was a bad one for conception, and my wife left me because we couldn't have children. As she now has a son, that would lead me to believe I was the problem in that equation." His voice was flat, emotionless, and it was easier to convince himself with every word that nothing more would come of this than a lesson learned.

Eggsy blinked. He rolled over onto his side, looking at Harry's face as he thought. 

Eggsy had wanted to know about Harry’s ex-wife at some point, what had happened before and after, why they had decided to break up. But he had to admit, learning about it right after sex had not been the time he had envisioned bringing it up. Harry sounded so deadpan about it too, making Eggsy feel a little bit awkward. He wanted to say something, but what? He was glad he and his wife didn't have a kid together, otherwise obviously they wouldn't have met. Selfish maybe, but it seemed to have worked out. He didn't particularly want his own kids right now either, not that he was against it all the way, he could see himself being a dad at some point, but he and Harry had just gotten to a good place. He didn't want to fuck it up with the stress of his being pregnant. 

But at the same time, Eggsy didn't want him feeling any kind of bad either. This time he leaned up and over to press a gentle kiss to Harry’s lips.

A sort of amused smile played over Harry’s lips once their kiss ended, and he let his hand fall to rest in the small of Eggsy's back. "Maybe not the best time to bring that up," he admitted, shrugging one shoulder. "But I thought it might reassure you." He hadn't necessarily  _ wanted  _ to spill his guts about why his last marriage had come to an abrupt end, but Eggsy had looked so worried, he hadn't taken the time to think before speaking.

"Was gonna ask at some point anyway," Eggsy said with a half-smirk, lying back down on the bed with one hand on his chest. "Reassured me on something else too. Just not gonna think about the whole condom thing unless I have to."

Harry glanced over at him curiously, one eyebrow arching upwards. "And what might that something else have been?" he questioned. 

Eggsy snorted. "Can't think what your current husband might have some worries about regarding your ex-wife and why you got divorced?" He raised an eyebrow, mirroring Harry. "I wanted to know if there was anything I should be worried about. People get divorced for a lotta reasons."

For a moment Harry was quiet, eyes half-closed as he turned back to stare at the ceiling again. "Very well then, a list of possible things that could have driven her away," he said, breaking the silence, eyes narrowed as if he were deep in thought. "There are some who would say I'm addicted to my work, I am very good at keeping secrets, I come home at all hours of the night with all manners of injuries, and..." Here he paused, moving to hover over Eggsy, forearm stretched along one side of his head, chest nearly brushing the younger man's, lips dipping down to press against his briefly, "I'm terribly unaffectionate." 

Now that Eggsy had admitted to himself what it was, feeling the flutter in his chest when Harry spoke and pressed in close to him was pleasant rather than concerning. He was grinning when he pulled back from their barely-a-kiss, relieved that was all it was. Kingsman he could deal with just fine, especially now he knew what it was. "You know, I remember being warned about that last bit," he mused, looking up at Harry with a mischievous look on his face but fondness in his eyes.

"I felt it only fair that you knew what you were getting into," Harry mumbled absently, only half paying attention to what Eggsy was actually saying. His eyes roamed over Eggsy's face, wandering from his lips to his eyes. "And for a while it was true," he pointed out.

"Till recently it was true," Eggsy agreed with a smirk, his hand lifting from the bed to touch Harry’s side, just to touch him, just because he could. "You weren't kidding with how much you tensed up if I so much as got too close."

Harry sighed softly, nodding. "In my limited defense, I'm used to people touching me only if they're trying to kill me."

"I know that now," Eggsy hummed, his hand lifting to instead move a straying bit of hair from Harry’s face, watching it. "I'm happy you've come around. Only took a year," he teased.

Rolling his eyes, Harry just gave him another kiss before moving to roll out of bed. "And this is officially the longest I’ve stayed in bed since I was a teenager," he said.

"Feels great, don't it?" Eggsy grinned and sat up as Harry got out of the bed, making no real move to get up himself. "I'd say it was a pretty good use of your time."

"A good use of my time, yes. I don't know about feeling great," Harry teased back, rolling out his shoulders and stretching up on his toes to loosen up his muscles.

Eggsy made a noise of offense but smirked still, climbing out of the bed as well to snatch up the boxers he'd tossed away earlier. "Why you have a hatred of sleep is beyond me, but you gave it a fighting chance, that's all I can ask," he said almost regretfully, casting a longing look at the rumpled bed before grabbing for his pants. 

Harry snorted. "I don't  _ hate _ sleep, I just dislike wasting my day," he said, moving to dress for the day.

"And lying with me, talking and whatever else is  _ wasting? _ I ain't gotta take this," Eggsy sniffed in mock offense, standing straighter even as he bent down to scoop up his shirt, tugging it on over his head and pausing a moment to note the red and almost purpling marks on his lower waist with mild interest.

Biting his lip to keep from laughing at Eggsy's fake anger, Harry stopped when he noticed him looking at the marks. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," he sighed. "If I'm being too rough with you, you can tell me."

Eggsy threw him a grin, smoothing out his shirt. "Nah, I trust you. Like it, actually. Just, you know, certain things." 'Certain things' being sexual things, not things that could trigger his anxiety, like the choking or raising a hand to him. But he knew Harry only would do the former on accident, something he could forgive now knowing what he must have been through for that to be an impulsive reaction. And Harry had never done the latter. 

But knowing Harry, Eggsy knew he probably still felt guilty, so he looked sincere as he kept up his grin. "Feel free to do it again. And biting, I liked that too," he added with a snicker.

Eggsy looked sincere and Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him. Ever since he'd nearly choked him out, he had become hyper-aware of hurting him and the bruises were proof that he hadn’t been paying attention. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, lips quirking into a bit of a smile.

Eggsy hadn't planned on it, but given the slight change in subject and tone he walked over to Harry, kissing him once before making for the door. "I'm gonna eat all the food you've got," he warned, scooping up and fixing on his white hat. "Dunno what you wanted to do with the time left before I gotta go back, but that's the first thing on my list." He grinned and left, mentally working backwards to figure out when the hell was the last time he ate. Pre-drugging, probably. Though that seemed like it was days ago with all that had happened since that party.

Harry just rolled his eyes and tracked Eggsy through the door with his eyes, waiting until he was completely out of sight before finishing donning his suit and starting in on his hair. It wasn't that much longer before he was heading downstairs, joining Eggsy in the kitchen.

True to his word, by the time Harry joined him in the kitchen, Eggsy was munching on a slap-dash ham sandwich and sitting on the counter as he waited for the coffee maker to finish making a single cup. True to normal mornings when he beat Harry downstairs, music was playing from his phone.

Harry eyed the sandwich on his way to the fridge. "I certainly hope that isn't 'all my food.' I know I need to go to the shops, but I didn't think it was quite that urgent."

"All your food that could fit on a sandwich. I didn't actually feel like cooking anything. You got a lot of 'prepare it' meals but not a lot of 'Eggsy is hungry, just stuff anything in there' food. Shame that." Eggsy grinned, promptly munching on another bite of sandwich.

"I haven't had a lot of Eggsy around to be hungry," Harry pointed out, rummaging around until he pulled out a pack of ham, some shredded cheese, and a carton of eggs.

Eggsy tutted and shrugged, watching him pull out the food. When his mouth was no longer stuffed with food, he swung one of his legs idly as he spoke. "What're you doing?"

Harry bent down to pull out a pan and flicked the stove on. "Making an omelet," he explained, cracking a couple of eggs and whipping them up before pouring them into a pan and cubing up the ham. 

"Your energy is amazing," Eggsy said with a small smirk, watching him work and knowing he'd mostly get in the way if he offered to help. Grabbing his mug once the coffee maker was done, he poured himself some as he continued. "If I'd been doing this alone, I'd have a fridge full of pizza pockets and toast."

"I did when I was your age," Harry informed him, adding in the ham and sprinkling cheese over top of the whole thing. "Cooking actual meals has been more of a recent development." 

'When I was your age,' that's right. Eggsy forgot a lot of the time about the age difference between them. Well, he wasn't an idiot, he didn't  _ forget _ , he just didn't notice. Much like how he knew Harry had been doing this for twenty-something years, but it didn't often register what all that that meant. He'd sort of just pictured Harry exactly like this, just with bad 90's choices. Heh. Maybe he had owned flannel plaid shirts up there with his sweatpants.

It was rather fun to picture Harry with a fridge full of pizza pockets though. "And lucky for me. Less chances for scurvy,” Eggsy joked, leaning over and stealing a pinch of shredded cheese to snack on.

Only barely resisting the urge to whack Eggsy's hand with the spatula for pinching cheese, Harry settled on rolling his eyes instead and dramatically flipped his omelet. "Yes, and fewer chances for overloading on carbs as well."

"Like  _ that _ is on my radar," Eggsy snorted, grinning and rather pleased with himself.

Harry just arched an eyebrow and poked at the omelet, testing to see if it was done. "Nobody has that 'on their radar' when they're young," he pointed out.

Eggsy just snorted and rolled his eyes. He hopped down from the counter to stand behind Harry instead, sniffing. Omelet sounded better than ham sandwich now that he could smell it sizzling.

It didn't take much longer for the omelet to cook, and Harry reached up for a plate, depositing it neatly before flicking the stove off. "I think," he said, grabbing a fork before turning to face Eggsy, "we'll be getting you a suit today."

Eggsy looked confused for a second, feeling like he’d just gotten a suit recently, until he remembered that that was nearly a year ago, and his wedding suit probably wasn’t Kingsman regulation. "Oh." He shrugged, going back to leaning on the spot he always did. "Yeah, good," he hummed agreeably.

"And, seeing as I don't think that will take the whole day, if there's something else you want to do, we can probably fit it in," Harry added, moving to sit at the table. 

"Nah. Bit premature to go see mum again, and I don't have anything else I want to do." Eggsy took a gulp of his hot coffee, moving to follow Harry and lean on the doorway by him so they at least could chat without talking through a wall. "Unless you wanna take me to the Adidas store," he grinned. "Could use more Jeremy Scott shoes or jackets, know you love those. They go well with suits."

Harry nearly choked on his bite of omelet as he pictured Eggsy dressed to the nines in a bespoke suit while sporting a pair of trainers. "I think I'd rather see you in  _ just _ about anything else," he muttered around the fork.

"What was that? Can't wait to see me in it? I agree, luv, I'll pull it off great," Eggsy snickered, envisioning it as well and thinking he could make it work rather well actually. Undo a few buttons, let the coat hang open, lose the tie, toss on a hat, perfect. The dressiest chav or the protagonist of a quirky university fitting-in story, either one was fine by him.

Choosing to ignore the blatant sarcasm being thrown in his face, Harry just chewed away at the eggs, scooping up strings of cheese. "I might just have to pull the whole thing off you," he said after a bit of a pause, not even looking at him.

Letting a few beats pass wherein he frowned and pursed his lips as though considering his counterpoint, Eggsy slowly shook his head, arms folded over his chest. "And what a deterrent that would be. But I'm afraid I still feel rather compelled." He looked almost apologetic.

Harry paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. "Wipe that ridiculous look off your face, you and I both know you’re not sorry in the least for nearly killing me with my own omelet." 

Just like that, Eggsy’s remorseful facade dropped, a laugh involuntarily escaping him. "I'd've been sorry if it  _ had _ killed you. If that helps," he grinned.

"And a lot of good that would have done me," Harry grumbled, taking another bite. "What a way to go. Survived a bullet to the gut, taken out by eggs and Eggsy."

"Don't think there'd be a lotta surprise, though. That would make sense." Eggsy hummed and pushed himself up again to clean up the coffeepot, throwing over his shoulder as he went, "I'm still gonna wear it, though."

Harry just heaved a resigned sigh and went back to his food, getting up once he'd finished and bringing his plate over to the sink.

Eggsy washed up his mess and Harry's while he was at it. The coffee had kicked in; he felt quite awake and ready to go -- and for that matter, with what he remembered of his last suit fitting, he was looking forward to getting it over with.

Harry glanced through his cupboards again, thinking that he really did need to get to the shops at some point before turning to face Eggsy. "About ready to go?" 

"When you are," Eggsy hummed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "But I get to drive. Been missing that car..." He looked sadly off in the direction of the parked car.

"Lord knows it could use the attention," Harry said, hunting down the keys and turning them over. "I've barely used it since you left."

"The poor thing," Eggsy said as he took the keys and made for the door straight away. "She likes being driven and washed Harry, you'll upset her."

Torn being laughing and rolling his eyes, Harry followed after him, locking up the door behind him. "I feel for it, I really do. You know how attached I get to inanimate objects."

"Very," Eggsy agreed, unlocking the car door and sliding into the driver's seat. "But I should have expected it," he continued once Harry got in. "I knew I had to love it enough for both of us."

Harry slid into the passenger seat, leaning his head against the headrest. "I'm sure it will appreciate it very much."

Eggsy smiled at him and took his usual appreciation and stock of the car before turning it on, running his fingers over the wheel and dashboard. 

Once it was started and the mirrors adjusted, he slowly pulled out, loving the purr of the car as it rumbled into the street. "Headed to the Kingsman tailor shop we walked through when you dropped me off, guv, unless you tell me anything different," he said as he began to drive.

"No, that's where we need to go," Harry confirmed. It was sort of amusing to see how much attention Eggsy gave the car.

Eggsy turned his favourite radio station on low volume as he drove them along, letting Harry be as he hummed along and -- he was rather proud of himself -- recalled the actual route to Savile Row. It wasn't a place he’d ever gone before Harry, but even through his nerves the last time, he’d made sure to remember where it was. He drove them there through the London traffic, and ended up parking a reasonable block away for them to walk. 

Harry was able to tolerate the music surprisingly well, but he certainly wasn't humming along. Once they'd parked he got out and waited until Eggsy had joined him on the pavement before entering the shop.

Eggsy followed him with his hands stuffed in his pockets as they often were, especially when he was made slightly uncomfortable. Even if this was a part of the agency he hoped to one day join, the outside front was still was a high-end tailor shop that he wasn't much used to. Still, he only let it affect what he did with his hands, keeping himself otherwise relaxed as he followed Harry inside.

Nodding at the man at the front desk, Harry inclined his head towards Eggsy. "We're here for a fitting," he said, already moving towards the first fitting room.

"I'm afraid," the man began, halting Harry in his tracks, "that a gentleman is already using fitting room one. You are free to use fitting room two."

Harry turned to glance at Eggsy before shaking his head once. "One does not use fitting room two when one is popping one's cherry," he commented dryly, making for the third one instead. "We'll wait."

At the comment, Eggsy couldn't help his smirking smile, looking first from his husband then to the man at the desk, rather pleased. Of course Harry would say something like that to decline. Of course. 

He followed Harry through one of the other doors he hadn't noticed before, expecting something... spy-ish inside, especially if they were going in there to wait out being unable to use the actual fitting room.

This one looked nearly identical to the room where Harry had pressed his hand to the glass and taken them down to the tube. Were all the doors in there lifts? "We going up or down?" he asked as the door shut behind them both, looking at himself in the mirror with vague sort of interest.

Harry looked at Eggsy's reflection, barely suppressing a smile. "Neither."

Eggsy’s eyebrows pulled together as he looked around the small room, somewhat confused. "...this it?"

Were things ever what they seemed in Kingsman? "Of course not," Harry said, eyes wandering over to one side. "Pull the hook."

Obediently, Eggsy followed his nod, reaching to tug the left-most hook. Immediately he started to grin as the hook pulled and machinery started to clink just behind the walls. Glancing behind him to Harry, he followed the sudden movement of the wall, swinging open a door to reveal the room behind that he could soon tell was large and filled with many things.

"Oh yes," Eggsy sighed appreciatively as he took slow steps inside. "Very, very nice." 

Here was the treasure trove he had hoped for, waited to see since Harry had begrudgingly allowed him to volunteer for candidacy. Glancing around, he could see all the guns and toys he had been  _ itching _ to get his hands on.

Harry followed him in, admiring the look of satisfaction on his face. "Remember all those weapons I told you about?" he prompted, running his eyes over the familiar arsenal.

"Several," Eggsy said rather longingly, letting his eyes linger on the guns and the ammo and the knives and all the other objects he knew weren't what they appeared to be. "Been looking forward to seeing some."

"Look as much as you like," Harry said, spreading one arm out invitingly. "But carefully," he added.

Eggsy grinned happily at the permission, only too happy to go and take a look. He wandered over to the obvious weaponry first; his weapons training had been going really well he felt, especially for not really having used a firearm or a knife outside of a pocket knife before Kingsman. His sniping was good, and he admired and lightly touched one of the rifles there for a moment, but his real skills were with the hand guns.

Harry strolled leisurely about the room as Eggsy looked at the weaponry. "Your weapons scores have been excellent, by the way," he remarked offhandedly, glancing back at him just in time to see the gleam in his eye when he spotted the gun.

Merlin had mentioned Kingsman had its own specially designed handgun that they'd get to work with should they become the next Lancelot, but Eggsy had no idea this was what he had meant. Eggsy picked up one of the ones hanging perfectly and invitingly on the wall, turning it over in his hands. "...is that a fuckin  _ shotgun cartridge? _ " he asked in disbelief, picking up a large orange shell in his other hand. His lips parted absently in awe as he looked them over. That was genius. Messy, definitely. He could do so much controlled damage with this little beauty. 

"Yes, it is indeed," Harry said. "That's come in useful several times."

"Fuck me," Eggsy said, shaking his head as he carefully replaced them on their respective shelves. It was rather difficult to let them go; he wanted to get a holster and hold onto it now, just to experience the feeling of having them.

He wandered away from the wall again, gaze lingering on the umbrella that Harry had told him about but never really gotten to show him what all it did. He walked over instead to the wall of what must have been gadgets, though they looked like average objects. Watches, rings, shoes, pens, lighters, cuff-links, those glasses he remembered from the gunshot incident. 

Harry had mentioned a few of them, the rings, the shoes... "Do you wanna show me some of these?" Eggsy asked with a half-grin, reaching out to play with one of the lighters, turning it over in his hands.

Harry joined him, plucking the lighter out of his hands. "Not that one. I don't fancy blowing up half of Kingsman," he said, putting it back in its proper place. Then he nodded to the shoes. "Remember what was in those?"

Eggsy huffed as the lighter -- grenade -- was taken from him. At Harry’s words, he looked down at his shoes, smirking lightly. "There's a knife in there, yeah?"

"Yes," Harry affirmed. "And do you know how we get the knife  _ out _ of there?"

"You ask it nice,” Eggsy said, his head moving from one side to the other as his hand lifted and dropped again. Harry hadn't said before, he didn't think. 

For a second Harry didn't say anything, just blinked at him slowly. "No, Eggsy," he finally sighed. He clicked his heels together sharply, the blade sliding out with an ominous snick. 

The sound and look of the blade shooting out of the tip of Harry’s shoe sent a literal shiver down Eggsy’s spine. That was so cool, just the fact it could do something like that, that it was designed to do that. "That is sick," he said appreciatively, eyebrows raised. "...how do you get it back in?"

"Bearing in mind the deadly neurotoxin it's coated in,  _ very _ carefully," Harry said, balancing as he pushed the toe of his shoe against the wood paneling, resheathing the small blade.

Neurotoxin. That would explain why Harry wouldn't show him in the tube ride over. "Fuck." Eggsy grinned, he couldn't help it. This whole room was amazing. He could spend hours there. "When do I get some of these?” he asked as he looked up at him again with excitement and admiration both.

Harry gave him a look of warning. "Not until you actually go out on a mission. They aren't really necessary beforehand."

"When'll that be?" Eggsy pressed, genuinely curious. Now that there was only two of them, it shouldn't be too long until he was done, surely.

That effectively quieted Harry. "Soon, most likely," he muttered, turning away to examine the pens instead.

Eggsy didn't like the sound of that. Even with as good as he was, he wasn't that good. Harry knew something then but couldn't say anything, Eggsy supposed. "...hm." He glanced over at the closed door, taking another step closer to Harry as he looked at the pens as well. "So what’s that do?"

Welcoming the much safer topic, Harry turned his attention to the pen. He held it up, talked about the different stages (primed, lethal, and all that) even threw in a quip about how much fun he'd had with it. Still, he couldn't help thinking of the test he knew awaited Eggsy. 

Eggsy smirked and smiled his way through the explanation, filing it all away in case he should need it before it was formally introduced as part of a mission. He edged closer to Harry by the time he repositioned it on the wall behind him. He was nearly touching him as he turned around to ask about what looked like deactivated tablets on the wall behind him, wondering if he could get away with taking one of these toys and smuggling it out in his pocket, just to have a proper look. 

This had him excited again, wanting to get into the action even as Harry's 'you have to live' from just last night was still fresh in Eggsy’s ears. He wanted to, to spend years still with him, but if Harry had had years of being a secret agent, he wanted it too.

At Eggsy's question, Harry swung around to look behind him. "Those don't do much of anything anymore," he admitted. "Some technology hasn't caught up with the new world. Come along, the fitting room should be free by now." He started off towards the door, ready to take his mind off the spy side of being a spy. 

On a dime, Eggsy abandoned his plan to try and take something when Harry wasn't looking, modifying his idea. "Wait," he said, reaching to grab his wrist. "Are there cameras in here?" he asked, glancing up at the ceiling. "Or, where, I guess."

Brow slightly furrowed, Harry halted, turning back to face Eggsy. "The corners of the rooms. The individual rooms aren't monitored very often. Why?" 

Good enough for Eggsy. Using his grip on Harry’s wrist, he pulled him in a bit more as he stepped the distance between them, his other hand grasping his shoulder as he leaned in to press a harder kiss than normal to his lips. They were in nearly the center of the room still, there was no one else there, and he had started thinking about spy shit and missions. Eggsy had no idea what was going to happen, but he wanted every kiss that he could afford to take. His heart even sped up as he kissed Harry.

Slightly stunned by the abruptness of it all, Harry's eyes widened as he found himself suddenly pulled into a crushing kiss, Eggsy's hands settling on his shoulders. It didn't take long for him to relax and melt into it, eyes sliding shut, body leaning more towards Eggsy's of its own accord.

Eggsy took advantage, leaning into him, holding him by his strong shoulders and kissing him like they were about to have a dirty fuck in the cloakroom of a nightclub, tongue brushing his lips as his own plump and reddening lips kissed greedily. 

When Eggsy did manage to pull back, he brushed Harry’s hair back so he could look into his eyes. Those wonderfully soft brown eyes he'd noticed first at their wedding and had come to love a little more every day. "After you," he said belatedly, figuring he’d purged enough to get back to being normal. Even if his lips did tingle a little.

Harry was slightly short of breath given the way they'd just been kissing and the fact that he hadn't been able to suck in a breath beforehand. He didn't move even after Eggsy had spoken, instead just studying him with narrowed eyes. "What was all that about?" he asked.

Eggsy shrugged, hands in his pockets again. "Do I need a reason for wanting to kiss my husband?"

"That wasn't just a regular 'kiss my husband' sort of kiss," Harry pointed out, but he didn't say anything more about it, just turned and pushed back into the fitting room.

Prudently, Eggsy said nothing, just put on his usual neutral expression as they reentered the fitting room portion of the fitting room and stepped back out into the tailoring lobby area. 

Just as they stepped out, the man at the desk looked up, offering them a small nod. "Excellent timing, sirs. The gentleman in fitting room one has just finished."

The door swung open almost as if it had been planned, and Harry stiffened imperceptibly as Valentine stepped out with a friendly, "Mr. Devere!" 

Thanking his training thus far in stealth, lying, and keeping a straight face, Eggsy made no outward change, even as the billionaire tech genius he had been following closely in the news was standing three feet away from him. He didn't know much about Harry's mission, he hadn't asked, but clearly “Mr. Devere” was his alias’ name, but he had been in the room when it was assigned to him. Eggsy knew enough to know they had interacted under a cover. It had to be up to Harry, then, to dictate who he was supposed to be, and he would just go along with it, switching to Kingsman mode while mentally recording and trying to notice everything Harry and Valentine both were doing. All while maintaining his resting face of mild disinterest, stopping behind Harry an appropriate distance.

"Valentine," Harry greeted him coolly, dipping his head slightly by way of greeting. "I was just introducing my tailor to my valet." He angled his body slightly towards Eggsy, knowing he was dressed nothing like a typical valet, but figuring Valentine wouldn't call him out on it.

Valentine only offered him a smile. "What a coincidence. I was doing the same thing with my assistant." He leaned around Harry, hand extended towards Eggsy. "How's it going, man?" 

Valet, huh. Well in this situation, Eggsy figured less was more, not wanting to stand out to him more than he already did given his bright street clothes in the middle of a posh tailor's. So he said nothing as Valentine extended a hand to him, just inclined his head slightly as he grasped his hand firmly. When he released, he returned to sizing him up from around Harry's shoulder, eyes flitting to his “assistant.” 

Harry kept his face and stance relaxed, seemingly perfectly at ease as they traded thinly-veiled threats pretending it was banter. Perhaps his eyes hardened slightly as he said, "Lock as in locked up." 

Not long afterwards, Valentine and Gazelle departed, and the tailor beckoned towards Eggsy. 

"Go on, then, they'll take care of you," Harry muttered.

Eggsy picked up on all of it, and by the end he could fairly safely say he no longer held Richmond Valentine in the same esteemed regard he once had months ago. At Harry's nudging, he nodded, stepping into the now open fitting room and began shedding his coat as the door closed behind him. He really wanted to know the details, what was happening and when. Maybe soon he could weasel some of it out of Harry as he was very loosely involved now.

Harry took himself out to the front of the shop where a Kingsman-issued cab sat unattended. He let himself in and tuned in to the tracker they'd planted on Valentine, hearing him chatter away to Gazelle. Much of the conversation was unhelpful, but it was always nice to know their enemy's plans, one way or another.

It was rather boring getting the tailoring measurements taken, Eggsy found. He made idle chit chat with the actual tailoring assistant there to help him, getting on with him fairly well as they were relatively close in age. But even chatting about the recent Arsenal and Liverpool scores didn't do much to assuage his boredom and impatience at having every bit of him measured when all he wanted was to figure out what was going on out there.

Eventually he was released with a, “Thanks, Reg, see you later, yeah?” as he delivered the measurements to the other attendant. 

Eggsy didn't quite know where to go or where Harry had gone, and he wasn't going to go exploring the spy cover base when he wasn't officially employed there yet. So he sank into the plush and not uncomfortable leather chairs in the waiting area, crossing one ankle over his knee as his leg bounced, his eyes focused out the window, unseeing. He really wanted to do a real mission soon. Badly.


	23. A Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has some sensitive content; please be warned that there is the death of an animal

Once it became clear that Valentine wasn't going to say anything useful, Harry exited the cab, sighing. Shame, that. They could have used something more than the brief glimpse of South Glade Mission Church he'd gotten off the cover of a brochure.

He re-entered the shop to find Eggsy sitting idly in a chair, staring out the window at who knew what. "Eggsy,"  he said, wandering over to him. "Ready to head out?" 

At the sound of his name, Eggsy startled, looking up and over to Harry. "Yeah," he nodded once, untangling his legs to stand up. He glanced out the window at the car, wondering where they would be 'heading out' to. When was he going back to the barracks? Not that he wanted to, not at all, he'd much rather be with Harry, but still, the 24 hours were nearly up.

Harry held the door open for him as they exited the shop, not speaking again until they'd reached the car. He paused before getting into it, hand curled around the door handle. "We'll have to go back to headquarters. Your next test will be starting soon, I would assume," he said. 

"Alright," Eggsy agreed, resolutely ignoring the sudden wave of anxiety that hit him. The next test could very well be the determining factor on if he passed and got the job, or if he fell just that short. He had been doing just fine, mostly operating confidently in knowing he was better than the other candidates. But it was just him and Roxy now. He couldn't even say he was better than her, they were just different. And one mistake meant he was done. 

Eggsy fidgeted a little as he got in the car, mind envisioning all manner of no doubt deadly scenarios he would have to go through. He chewed his lip.

Harry got halfway in and paused, noting how unsure of himself Eggsy looked. "Would you rather I drive?" he asked.

"...might be good, yeah," Eggsy agreed, lips twitching in an almost smirk as he backed off from the driver's door again. "Bit distracted."

As Harry passed him to get to the driver's seat, he let his fingers trail slowly across Eggsy’s shoulders. He didn't say anything as he slid behind the wheel, starting the car and making for the headquarters silently. 

Eggsy got into the passenger seat, settling in gratefully. He didn’t say anything as they drove either, not even putting on music. His nerves were a bit much to enjoy it anyway. He just looked out the window, wondering what could be worse than almost getting hit by a train or skydiving without a chute. 

Eventually they reached HQ, and Harry brought the car to a halt with a soft sigh. "I'll be waiting for you back at the house, Eggsy," he told him, glancing over. "Whether you pass or fail, your time in the barracks is over."

Eggsy blinked, surprised as he looked over once the car stopped moving. Oh. That made sense, he supposed. He just hadn't thought ahead like that. But it was nice to know Harry would be there when he was through, one way or the other. In celebration or consolation. And he would be back in the house with him again tonight which was calming somewhat. "Okay, Harry." He grabbed the handle, ready as he was going to be, and looking forward to seeing JB again. He had felt a little guilty leaving him there overnight.

"Good luck," Harry said as Eggsy made to get out of the car. He wished he could better prepare him for what he was about to be asked to do, but he had to bite back any sort of warning, instead just settling for wishing him luck. 

Smiling at him, Eggsy climbed out of the car, nudging the door closed with his hip as he walked up to the front door of the massive base.

Once Eggsy was inside, he was told the same thing Harry had told him not five minutes ago. It was time to go down to the barracks, pack up what little he had, and await further instruction. Not a problem, being that he only had one other outfit down there. 

When he got to the room he had lived in for so many weeks, he felt genuinely pleased as JB happily trotted over to see him, barking his raspy, dumb bark. “Hey, missed you too, mate,” he said affectionately, kneeling down to pet his head. 'We're getting outta here today,” he hummed, scooping the pug up to set him on the bed that had already been stripped down.

Roxy came in not long after him, also looking rather pleased and less tired than she had recently. 

“Enjoy your time back in the real world, Rox?” Eggsy grinned, stripping out of his street clothes to put on the freshly laundered siren suit. 

She gave a non-committal noise of agreement, and he couldn't help but chuckle. Still so secretive.

When they were dressed, Merlin knocked at the door once before entering, and both of them stood at attention. After telling them to be at ease, he instructed them both that it was time for their final task. Eggsy was to report to the main floor sitting room, Roxy the main floor dining room. 

Merlin left, and they looked at each other, unspoken anxiety and excitement and dread rushing through them both.

They leashed their dogs and left their bags at the foot of the turned-down beds, making their way to the assigned destinations. 

Eggsy reached his room and knocked before entering, stepping inside to find Arthur sitting in an armchair facing a fire, next to an empty matching chair.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" he prompted, edging inside the narrow entryway.

Arthur glanced up when Eggsy came in, seemingly shattered out of a reverie. "Ah, Eggsy, come in. Have a seat," he invited him, giving him a tired smile.

Eggsy stepped in, taking the seat that was obviously meant for him. JB wandered in too, happily clicking on the floor and onto the mat he hadn't noticed yet, sitting by Eggsy's feet.

"That's a lovely dog," Arthur said, inclining his head towards the lively little pug. "What's his name?"

"JB," Eggsy said rather proudly, smiling down as he looked at him panting and looking two different directions with a dopey smile.

Arthur took his eyes off the dog, fixing them instead on Eggsy, head tilted slightly to one side. "JB as in James Bond?" he asked, sounding slightly amused.

"Eh, no," Eggsy said almost apologetically, glancing up at him again. That was a little on the nose.

"Jason Bourne?" Arthur pressed, assuming action hero was the route to take in this particular case.

"No," Eggsy said with a small half-smile, glancing up at him. "...Jack Bauer?" he said almost questioningly, not really believing Arthur would have seen an American action drama from the early 2000s.

"Oh!" Arthur said, nodding his head once as he scrambled to remember the source of the character.  He didn't put much bearing into figuring it out though, and instead turned the topic of conversation. "I might have been wrong about, Eggsy," he admitted. "You might make just as good a spy as any of us."

The amusement Eggsy had had for a fraction of a second as Arthur seemed to enjoy the reasoning behind his dog's name was gone the moment the gun was drawn. His eyebrows pulled together and he began to straighten defensively, his jaw setting. Was he meant to try and disarm a senior agent-?

Just as casually, Arthur relaxed his grip on the gun's handle, letting it flip lazily over his fingers until the grip was extended towards Eggsy, an open invitation to take it.

Eggsy blinked. That wasn’t what he was anticipating. But the gun was offered and he'd rather have it than the man who was just pointing it at him. He reached forward and took it, his posture still rather defensive.

Arthur settled back into his chair, folding his fingers together. "Shoot the dog." 

Almost immediately, the narrowing of his eyes was completely reversed, his eyes widening and grip on the gun tightening. Shoot? Shoot his dog. Arthur had given him a direct order to fire a gun at his dog. The dog Kingsman gave him and had him raise and bond with. Eggsy looked over to JB, sitting there happily and looking at him without knowing what his master held in his hand.

He chewed the inside of his lip. Was this it? The test? He held his arm out, pointing the gun at his dog, his lips pressed together in a thin line. He couldn't do this. There was no way he could do this. He couldn't just shoot an animal for no reason, especially one that trusted him so implicitly. JB would follow him to the ends of the earth, he couldn't murder something so innocent. His arm began shaking.

Arthur watched Eggsy carefully, eyes fixed on his face, studying his shifting emotions. For a moment he was entirely convinced that he wasn't going to do it, was going to hand over the gun, give up, and go home. Just as he'd suspected from the beginning. Eggsy wasn't Kingsman material. He didn't have the right blood.

But Harry's voice bubbled up from Eggsy’s memory. 'Mr Pickle... I got him from Kingsman... He'd been through quite a lot with me...' 

Eggsy’s hand stopped moving, gears turning in his head. Kingsman had fucked with him more than once already. And he had proof in his mind, the image of the forlorn-looking stuffed dog from Harry's bathroom, obviously not shot in the head.

This wasn't real. It was a test of loyalty, to see if he would do it.

Eggsy wasn't going to lose because he was going to be intimidated by something he had long ago decided he would never do. JB was going to be fine. He looked at him with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, unconcerned with the gun. The empty gun. It wasn't loaded. He told himself over and over and over. JB was going to be fine. His finger tightened on the trigger, firing the gun, the loud bang ringing in his unprotected ears.

The gunshot didn't exactly startle Arthur when it came, and it was almost immediately echoed in the next room over. It appeared both candidates would be moving on.

The gunshot went off and Eggsy had one moment of satisfaction. One single second of thinking he had passed, before his eyes caught up to his brain. He hadn't been wrong, exactly. The gun wasn't loaded with bullets. But at a range like this, the blank exploded from the gun, burrowing right through the little pug's head like it was butter. Blood shot from its head, first forward from the entry point, the small spray getting on Eggsy’s hand and sleeve and the gun itself, then from the back, the clear mat getting its own spattering. 

The dog fell over limply, without even a yelp, motionless.

The colour drained from Eggsy's face as his grip on the gun slackened enough for it to fall from his hand and clatter to the floor. His eyes were wide, unseeing and fixed on the spot JB had been gazing up at him from, and it felt like the ringing in his ears was all he could hear. How could he have been wrong? He was so sure he wouldn’t kill JB, so certain. He knew this moment would be one he wouldn't ever be able to forget; it probably wouldn't even fade in memory. He would be able to see the moment his dog fell over dead by his hand until the day he died. He felt sick to his stomach, repulsed by his actions and what he had just done for a fucking job.

Slowly, Eggsy turned his face to Arthur, the wide-eyed stare replaced with utter neutrality. He hadn't known Arthur well, but now he knew him as the man who tasked him to kill a defenseless animal. Anger started to bubble in him through the numbness he was feeling.

Arthur didn't even flinch, despite the ferocity he could see burning in the recruit's eyes. "Despite the unfortunate circumstances," he began, casting a quick glance towards the lifeless form, "I am obligated to inform you that you have passed and will be moving on to the next stage of training along with Roxanne. You may do what you like with your dog; if you leave him here, we will dispose properly of the body."

That was the first death to happen by his own hands, despite all his training and his preparation. But Eggsy knew now right at the front of his mind, and he made sure to communicate it with his eyes, that he could easily kill a man right about now. Reaching down, he picked up the gun with his slightly bloodied hand, and pointed it with his other directly at Arthur's face with the steadiest hand. He let himself have that moment, that threat, before he too let his grip relax and the gun flip over, handing it back to him.

Eggsy needed to get home right fucking now.

Arthur took the gun from Eggsy, tucking it back into the holster he'd pulled it from and nodding at Eggsy. "You're dismissed." He let a beat of silence pass in which his gaze flicked from JB to Eggsy before adding, "Congratulations." 

Eggsy said nothing. Though his hand twitched as he was congratulated, he otherwise didn't react. He stood and, walking quickly, he retrieved his bag of clothes and rushed out the front door before he had to see and deal with Roxy. He burst through the front doors, starting to breathe in deep, repeated breaths. Without sparing a moment's thought, he climbed in the car that sat unattended out front. 

Speeding off down the secluded road, Eggsy didn't even feel his usual thrill at doing his real driving, the fancy, fast and dangerous stuff. He was just trying to get home as fast as possible.

-

Harry sat on the sofa, idly leafing through the pages of a book that he wasn't really paying attention to. His eyes flicked back up to the clock, but he wasn't expecting Eggsy back for another hour or so at the earliest,

When Eggsy hit the outskirts of London, he slowed down finally, his hands tightening on the wheel as he wove through traffic. The image of his dog lying with blood pouring from his head was burned into his eyes; no matter where he looked, he couldn't get rid of it. Heat was rising in his face as his throat felt constricted. He had to force down the angry tears that wanted to prickle at his eyes. He wasn't going to cry about this yet, goddamnit.

The car pulled into the driveway behind Harry's car, and Eggsy climbed out of it, slamming the door behind him as he walked up to the front door. After fucking up the lock two or three times, he finally opened the door, nudging it forcefully closed behind him.

The slamming of a car door was the first indication Harry had that Eggsy had returned, much sooner than he'd been anticipating. He heard the lock right after and wondered why he hadn't heard the cab (for it must have been a cab, how else would Eggsy have gotten home?) drive off. From the sounds of it, Eggsy wasn't having an easy time of it, and Harry suspected he hadn't been able to go through with it.

"Harry," Eggsy said more than called, aware enough to know he'd already made more than enough noise. His brows were pulled together, eyes hard, anger flushing his pale face.

At the sound of his name, Harry turned around, slightly taken aback by the anger he could see simmering just behind his eyes. "Eggsy?" 

"...JB is fucking dead." He was remarkably deadpan, considering how much emotion was really bubbling inside him. "I shot him. And now he's dead." He wasn't meeting Harry’s eyes, instead glaring at a fixed point on the floor and just standing there in the entryway. 

It took a second for that to really process. Eggsy had shot the dog, as was required. He'd passed the test. But the shot had, apparently, killed him. That wasn't supposed to happen, that was an outlier, an anomaly. 

Harry took a few cautious steps in Eggsy's direction, almost close enough to touch him, though he didn't try. "It was a blank. It shouldn't have killed him."

"Well, it fucking did!" Eggsy said, louder than he'd intended, eyes darting up to look at him. His jaw clenched, hand with the blood burning with guilt. "Right through his head. He was fucking looking right at me and all." He sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. 

Harry closed the gap between them, reaching out to rest his hand gently on the side of Eggsy’s face. "It wasn't supposed to go like that; don't blame yourself for this." 

"I pulled the fucking trigger, bruv, ain't anyone else to blame." Eggsy relaxed a little at the touch despite himself, eyes losing that burning edge to them. "Fucking hell... With what you said, I was so sure he would've been fine. If I'd've known, I wouldn’t... I never would've..."

"Kingsman wouldn't have asked you to kill JB," Harry said, mind already turning to who it was that  _ had  _ asked him to do just that. "We don't condone the taking of a life unless it will save another. Murdering your dogs would have been pointless."

Eggsy just shook his head slowly. He knew that was the methodology, he knew that was the supposed mantra and creed of being a Kingsman agent. It was part of why he hadn't believed he would hurt JB by pulling the trigger. But he  _ had _ taken a life. Why even bother with blanks, why not give him an unloaded gun? Remove the risk entirely if the test was just supposed to be blind loyalty to following orders? It  _ was _ pointless. His dog was dead, and for no reason at all.

Harry could see he hadn't entirely consoled Eggsy, and he didn't think he'd be able to, not with the incident so fresh in his mind. "Come on, let's wash this off," he said, reaching for Eggsy's bloodstained hand.

His hand twitching, Eggsy sighed, choosing not to look as Harry took his hand. He agreed that getting the blood off would be good for him, and he needed to not think about this as much as possible. 

Harry guided him over to the kitchen sink by his hand, turning the tap water on and waiting until it had warmed up before holding Eggsy's hand under the water. He massaged it with his thumbs, gently scraping away the blood with his nails.

Eggsy allowed him to do as he liked, holding his hand nearly limp under the water. He watched as Harry rubbed the blood flecks away, his head falling to rest on Harry's shoulder. He was so grateful for him at that moment. If he'd had to go to his mum's flat, he almost certainly would have gotten into a fight.

Eventually, Harry had got Eggsy’s hand pretty well cleared of blood, and he turned the sink off, silence falling after the rush of water. He brought his dry hand up to card through Eggsy's hair, not making any move that might dislodge him.

"...can we sit?" Eggsy sighed, taking his hand back and uncaringly wiping it dry on the siren suit he was still dressed in. 

“Of course," Harry agreed. He let his hand fall away and moved towards the kitchen table before hesitating and glancing over towards the sofa.

When Harry paused, Eggsy continued on and gently tugged his wrist, moving them towards that sofa. He sank down onto the middle cushion, running a hand through his hair with a vague frown.

Taking his cue from Eggsy, Harry drifted over with him, seating himself beside him. They weren't quite touching, but Eggsy could fix that very easily if he wanted to. 

Almost immediately, Eggsy scooted over when he was settled, melding into his side. He didn't say anything, just closed his eyes and tried to blot out mental images by concentrating on the warmth of Harry's body.

Harry wrapped his arms around Eggsy's shoulder, running his hand soothingly down his back. Neither of them spoke; he let Eggsy take what comfort he could purely from physical touch, knowing nothing that he said would be of much help. 

Luckily, Eggsy took a lot of comfort from touch alone, the warmth and solidness of another body there, one consciously making the decision to sit with him, helping the dull, aching feeling in his chest.

He sat in that silence for a while, just breathing purposefully deeply and evenly. Eventually, his fingers curled into the fabric of Harry's shirt. When he needed to talk again, he cleared his throat once and stated simply, "I stole his car, I think."

"I wondered how you'd gotten back," Harry said, not sounding all that disapproving. "I'll take it back tomorrow when I go in." 

"...thanks," Eggsy said, actually surprised Harry wasn't more upset about that. It  _ seemed _ like the sort of thing Harry would be upset about, especially when he had made him promise he wasn't going to steal cars before they got married. And it was Arthur's, whether specifically or generally, he wasn't sure.

"Between you and me," Harry said, hand pausing in its path down Eggsy's back, "I never had any great fondness for Arthur. He's a bit of a snob." And making his husband murder his own dog hadn't done anything to move Arthur into his good graces, that was certain. 

Eggsy snorted, lifting his head to look at Harry properly. "A  _ bit? _ He’s fucking textbook." He'd only encountered him a few short times, most of the time it hadn't even been directly. But Eggsy knew a classist snob when he saw one. He knew the looks.

Harry shrugged one shoulder, but nodded. "Yes, and now you've stolen his car. An excellent way to steer him away from the stereotype that you all are criminals," he pointed out.

"Hey, he started it. He backed up that posh blokes are arseholes, so I stole his car. Fair trade. I’m sure he'll just chat shit about me when you bring it back." As he was probably doing currently to whomever was there, Merlin, most likely. Big deal.

Just barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the childish argument, Harry only sighed and shook his head instead. "He could very well be your boss soon, you realize." 

"...yeah," Eggsy said, frowning. He'd passed, tonight. He had passed another test. He was back home now, Harry had said. "What comes next then, eh?"

"I'm assuming that Roxy passed her test as well, meaning the both of you are still in the running," Harry said, looking over at Eggsy. "Which means you'll most likely be sent out with me on my next field mission." 

Now that he was a little clearer in the head, Eggsy felt a little bad that he hadn't stayed to see how Roxy had done or if her dog lived or not. He did seem to remember hearing a second shot from the room next to his; she’d probably passed. 

In any case, he was more concentrated on the latter half of what Harry had said. Eggsy would be going with him. Without really realizing it, his lips twitched into a half-smile, eyes looking right back at him. "I'll be going with you? On an actual mission?" Despite the deadness in him still, he couldn't help the twinge of excitement he felt. He'd get to go on an actual mission, see how they went, and with Harry no less. It sounded great.

Harry nodded, not sharing Eggsy’s enthusiasm. "Yes, seeing as I was the knight who proposed you, they would put you under my responsibility," he explained. "And Roxy would go with Percival on whatever assignment he happens to have next." There was no hint of excitement in either face or voice, and he moved to look at the wall instead of Eggsy. 

Eggsy frowned. He hadn't been so naive as to think Harry might be excited or happy about this like he was, but he was rather dead-sounding about it, not something he had really counted on. He would think Harry would be at least somewhat pleased he would be with him rather than another knight he didn't know. "Is that a problem?" he asked.

Sighing, Harry relaxed against the back of the sofa, gaze flicking up to the ceiling. "I would much rather your first mission not have anything to do with the most powerful megalomaniac we've encountered in the recent century. But seeing as Valentine has officially fallen under my jurisdiction, it probably will."

That made sense. But still, Eggsy wasn't supremely concerned. Thus far, all he had heard about was information and fact finding, maybe disabling a weapon of some kind. He had no reason to think it would be anything he couldn't handle, megalomaniac or not. And he'd be with Harry, someone with more cause than anyone to make sure he was properly prepared and informed when briefing time came. 

"It'll be fine, yeah?" Eggsy hummed, trying to come off as relaxed rather than cocky -- which he wasn't. He'd seen the woman with knives for fucking legs, this wasn't the time for boyish overconfidence. "Don't even know what it is yet, could be a survey of his employees or something. Even I could handle that relatively fine," he said as his head tilted, facing Harry while the side of his head hit the back of the couch.

Harry was just opening his mouth to agree, when his glasses beeped, indicating a message.

Merlin patched him through to Valentine's conversation, and Harry listened with a growing sense of dread as they talked about an experiment at the church. "Get the plane ready," he muttered afterwards, figuring the technician was already on it. "Will Eggsy be accompanying me?"

When he received an answer in the affirmative, he sighed and switched the glasses off. "Not a survey."

As the message went on, though Eggsy couldn't hear anything, the look of seriousness on Harry’s face didn't quite bode well. 'Get the plane ready' also seemed to mean they were leaving. Right now. This was a long fucking day.

"Plane. Where are we going?" he asked. Reluctantly, he separated from Harry's side and stood up, looking down at the one piece suit he still wore with a grimace. He'd rather not do a first real mission dressed like this.

"South Glade Mission Church," Harry stated, making no move to get up. "They're a hate group based in Kentucky. Merlin will meet us at HQ and fit you up; you won't be wearing that," he added, catching the rather distasteful way Eggsy looked down at his suit.

"Yeah good," Eggsy huffed, raking a hand through his hair and messing it up from the nice styling he had done when he had gotten dressed. "It'd stand out a bit in Kentucky. Stand out a bit anywhere," he added under his breath, hands finding the pockets of the suit and looking at Harry rather questioningly, confused why he hadn't leapt up as he had all the other times he'd gotten a call.

Once Eggsy had settled down a bit, Harry heaved himself off the sofa, heading for the door without bothering with keys. "Merlin will have sent us a taxi. I'll have someone come fetch Arthur's car," he said by way of explanation, already heading out of the house.

Eggsy blinked at the abruptness, but followed along behind him, out of the house and closing the door behind him. "How often do you have to leave at a moment's notice like this?" he asked as he approached the car that, sure enough, was idling on the street at the end of their driveway. It had only happened twice now, but then Eggsy hadn't even been living there for a full year yet; for all he knew it was just a slow -- or busy, for that matter -- time of late.

Harry shrugged as he approached the car, pausing to tug the door open. "Often enough to get used to it," he said, gesturing for Eggsy to get in. 

Eggsy fell quiet again after that, getting into the cab and scooting himself over to allow Harry to get in after him.

Harry slammed the door shut behind him with a little more force than necessary. This wasn't the way he'd been expecting Eggsy to find out how he acted in the field. He'd thought Eggsy would get out there himself first, feel what it was like when the adrenaline was coursing through him, danger closing in, and get first-hand experience of the desperation that sometimes fueled one's actions. He hadn’t thought Eggsy’s first exposure to Harry Hart the Spy was going to be in person. He shifted slightly as the taxi pulled off.


	24. A Church

Eggsy was silent on the drive over, spending most of his time staring out of the window as his mind went what felt like a mile a minute. He sort of wanted to talk, to go on about anything just to give a conscious and deliberate direction to his thoughts, but Harry seemed… rather grumpy. Certainly not one for conversation, if the almost clipped answers he'd been getting were any indication. 

So instead Eggsy tried to restrict himself to thinking about what he was in for in Kentucky. But he couldn’t help seeing flashes of his dog keeling over dead, or a train in the distance, tried not the thought that one fuck up and he was done either with the job or killed solidify in his head. He wondered if he got the job, would thoughts like that ever go away? His thoughts flitted over to his mother, still thinking him gone on honeymoon for so long. He would have to make time to see her soon. Would all this have a physical effect on him somehow? Would she be able to tell he wasn't quite the same?

He wanted to touch Harry's hand or leg. He didn't.

Meanwhile, Eggsy's confessions when Harry had said he loved him were ringing incessantly in Harry's ears, and he desperately wished his brain would shut up. Those had been what Eggsy considered the worst parts of him, the ones he hadn't dared spill until he didn't think he'd had any other choice. And Harry had done every single one of them for the sake of the job. Worse, in fact. He'd murdered, slept with enough people that he'd stopped keeping track, dabbled in various drugs either to keep his cover or his sanity... Now, worse than just exposing Eggsy to all of that, he'd actually pulled him in. Eggsy was about to see at least some of that come into play right in front of his eyes, and Harry wondered what Eggsy would think of him, in the end.

The cab reached headquarters, sliding to a halt. Harry leaned forward to have a quick word with the driver about reclaiming Arthur's car. 

When the car pulled to a stop, Eggsy got out, antsiness too great to keep him waiting even for something as short as Harry's instructions to a driver. He stretched himself a bit, his head craning upwards to look at the distorted view the mansion gave from the ground. He wished he'd thought to grab his vape before they rushed out; his hand was searching for it in his pocket and only stopped once he noticed and realized what for. He'd settle for real cigarettes before the plane if that was possible.

Eggsy trotted up the steps to the doors and stood there casually (with one hand still in his pocket; he didn't trust it to be out) while he waited for Harry to join him and lead the way as he didn't know where they were actually going to get to the giant transportation hangar he'd seen his first real day there.

It didn't take long for Harry to finish telling the cabbie about the car, and soon he was slipping out to join Eggsy. He noted the fact that he was still keeping his once-bloody hand in his pocket, but there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment. "Come on," he said, leading Eggsy to the hangar so they could meet Merlin.

Sure enough, Merlin was already waiting for them, and he led them onto the plane. There was a small pile on one of the seats that looked suspiciously like clothes, and he was digging in his pockets to unearth the tech items he had hidden away. "Put those on and we'll get you fitted up," Merlin instructed Eggsy, nodding to the outfit. 

As soon as Eggsy boarded the plane, he couldn't help his eyebrows raising and eyes looking over everything from the glaringly obvious -- he'd never seen a plane with a sofa before -- to the subtle (was that the Kingsman logo hidden in the carpet?). 

When Merlin addressed him, he nodded and picked the clothes up, holding them under one arm while his other started plucking at the collar of the suit he currently wore, desperate to get it off.

Merlin cleared his throat as Eggsy started plucking at his clothing. "The bathroom might be a better place to change," he prompted, nodding towards the door.

Merlin turned to face Harry as Eggsy disappeared into the bathroom. "You'll both be going in, but not together; the pair of you will stick out. We're hoping to find Valentine, and if we do, you're to engage him. Eggsy is only backup."

Harry nodded his understanding, taking the briefing files and flipping idly through them.

"I'll leave you to it." Merlin disembarked, signaling to the pilot that they would be departing.

Eggsy took his sweet time changing his clothes, not seeing any real benefit to be gained by rushing out only to sit on the plane for nearly seven hours of building anticipation. 

As soon as Eggsy started to put on the clothes Merlin gave to him, he noticed the outfit wasn't much better than the siren suit. It wasn't a one-piece, which was a definite plus, but tan slacks, a pale blue button up shirt, and a pale green sweater vest weren't exactly his idea of fashionable attire either. He looked in the mirror and practiced a few facial expressions, mostly finding one that would be the best faux-enjoyment resting face. He also messed with his hair while he was at it, ruffling up the top while still leaving it mostly together. Not too much, not too little.

Since they did still have time, Eggsy rolled up the sleeves of the shirt before he stepped out, letting himself be comfortable at least for a while. He sat down in a seat in the same area as Harry, draping his old suit on a nearby surface.

Harry occupied himself with going over both the files and the pieces of equipment Merlin had left for them. They'd both agreed that putting both him and Eggsy in glasses would prove too strong a connection, but there was no way they would send him in alone. A small earpiece had been left in their stead to allow Eggsy a link to Kingsman. 

Harry glanced up when Eggsy emerged, thinking that he rather preferred his usual style, funnily enough. 

After relaxing in his seat for only a minute or two, desire to know what was happening won out, and Eggsy sat forward, leaning toward Harry rather unconsciously to see what it was he had. "So what do I need, then?"

"Conceal this somewhere," Harry said, sliding over a handgun, "and put this in your ear. I'll be Kingsman's primary point of contact, but should Merlin need to get ahold of you, he'll use that." He held out the earpiece carefully.

"Haven't earned the glasses yet, eh?" Eggsy hummed taking the objects he was handed. His pants were decently loose, enough to keep a gun in a holster around his ankle without much to be seen. The earpiece he took gently and fixed in. So he was emergency back up, then. Not so bad. Mostly sit there and observe but don't fuck up. He  _ was _ dressed to blend in, notably not in anything bulletproof.

Harry wanted to be amused by that, but looking at Eggsy, the way he was dressed, his minimal forms of protection hardly even visible, he didn't feel much like laughing. "It's not a matter of earning, it's a matter of making us look as separate as possible," he sighed, glancing at his own attire. The Kingsman-issued suit would probably set him apart from the other members of the congregation, but Valentine already knew who he was; a disguise wasn't really necessary. "Make sure you're sitting away from me."

Eggsy hummed his understanding, choosing not to make the usual snarky remarks he would have otherwise made. Sit away from Harry, don't acknowledge him, don't do anything, provide potential back up that most likely wouldn't be needed. Thrilling first field mission. 

"Don't look like your valet, do I?" The thought vaguely occurred to Eggsy, and it probably wasn't going to be an issue, especially with how downplayed his appearance currently was, that Valentine technically had met him once before. Didn't seem likely that Valentine would look for him at all in a church whatever-this-was mission, but still, Eggsy thought it was something to keep in mind.

Shaking his head, Harry settled back in his seat. "If all goes well, Valentine won't have a lot of time to reflect on that conversation," he mumbled, eyes closing. It was a long flight, after all, and there wasn't much to do on a plane.

Eggsy just nodded to himself, quiet as Harry had closed his eyes. He folded one ankle over his knee, eyes fixed out the window on the sky and clouds that passed them by. Apart from the entire reason they were going, he was going to America for the first time. That was kind of cool, in and of itself. If he got the job, he supposed there would be a lot he could see. Small Eggsy would have been happy.

"Given the day you've had, you might want to consider sleep," Harry said quietly, not bothering to open his eyes.

Eggsy almost laughed. "I'll consider it," he agreed, still looking out the window. Honestly, he should. If he thought back on it, he’d probably only had around 10 hours of sleep in the past 72 hours. But he was  _ not _ about to sleep. He couldn't, not with how keyed up he had been, currently was, would be. Maybe he could collapse when they were done. If he did nod off, it would probably only be to jerk awake minutes later. 

When Harry cracked an eye open a few minutes later to see how Eggsy was getting on with that, he wasn't really surprised to find him still awake. He sighed and held out a hand, beckoning him over. "Come here." 

It took Eggsy a moment to look over at him and really hear what he said. Once he did, he stood, making his way over to him carefully and mildly uncomfortably, due to the slightly moving floor.

Harry let his legs fall open, reaching forward and curling two fingers just inside the waistband of Eggsy's slacks. He tugged Eggsy forward until his shins were pressing against the front of Harry's seat before settling both hands on his hips. Slowly, they snaked their way up his body, running to the top of his ribs before starting their wandering path back down. "You have six and a half hours until you have to start worrying about this mission. Relax."

Eggsy's head tilted as he looked down at him, eyes looking more down than meeting Harry's as one of his hands rested lightly on his shoulder. "If I'm worried about this, I ain't thinking of other shit," he reasoned, though he seemed less tense just by Harry touching him and paying him some amount of attention.

Harry suspected that the 'other shit' category was mostly referring to JB. "Mmmmm," he hummed, grip tightening around Eggsy's waist so he could draw him down into his lap.

At the tugging, Eggsy let himself follow the momentum and fall into Harry’s lap. He sighed, feeling tiredness threaten his eyes and a yawn in his throat, but he refused to give in to them.

Leaning forward, Harry skimmed his lips lightly over Eggsy's jaw, moving to run them below his ear, down his neck. He was slow and methodical about it, not wanting to excite Eggsy, really, just soothe him. 

It worked fairly well, the feeling of soft lips lingering against his skin and warm weight beneath his body enough to coax Eggsy’s eyes to close and a faint smile to come to his lips.

Harry could feel Eggsy relaxing against him, and he swept his lips down to the collar of his shirt, planting a small kiss there before pulling back. "Get some sleep, Eggsy."

Sleep sounded much more likely this time. Wordlessly, Eggsy climbed off of his lap, moving to sit beside him instead, his eyes opening just enough to find a comfortable position. Tiredness burned his eyes, and he muffled a yawn as he curled up, head hitting the back of the seat with sleep very sincerely threatening to take him.

Harry let out a small sigh as Eggsy climbed off his lap but it died out when Eggsy settled in right beside him. He stayed as quiet as possible so as not to disturb him, leaning back and closing his own eyes. He wasn't going to miss out on the opportunity to get some rest either, not with Valentine waiting for them.

Eggsy only had a little bit of consciousness to be grateful to Harry for not letting him stay awake the entire time, as was his plan, before he did fall asleep, mouth falling slightly open.

-

Eggsy trudged through weird dreams, falling through the air and landing perfectly fine in the middle of a loud nightclub filled with people without faces, and he beat the imagery back as much as he could. He just wanted rest. If he continued to dream after that, he didn't remember, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was the sound of a gunshot in his dream that caused his abrupt awakening, his eyes snapping open and body tensing up again as he went from asleep to perfectly awake in a matter of seconds. 

Having grown used to sleeping on planes from his many missions with Kingsman, Harry didn't wake until Eggsy startled beside him. He was immediately on the alert until he realized where they were, focus turning to his husband instead of his environment. "Eggsy?" 

While completely awake, it took a few seconds upon hearing his name for Eggsy to speak or move, and when he did, he only sat upright in the seat by unfolding his legs, and pulled out his phone to check the approximate timer he had set when he felt the plane take off. Still another hour. Remaining upright, he nevertheless let his head fall back against the seat and looked at the curving ceiling of the plane as he spoke. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you. We still got time left, go back to sleep. I'll try again in a minute too." He wasn't sure if he was lying. He felt awake, but he wasn't sure if that was the lingering effects of the adrenaline that had shot through his system at the sudden awakening or if he was simply done resting.

Brow slightly furrowed at Eggsy's rather odd behavior, Harry shook his head. "I'm alright. Must have been all that sleeping in," he said lightly. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah," Eggsy said, turning to look over at him with slightly raised eyebrows. "Never did sleep good the day something happened." He shrugged. 'Something happened' didn't just refer to the life-threatening events of Kingsman; he'd had seven years to learn how he worked after unpleasant scenarios, and he knew it'd be okay. He just, as he’d previously thought, probably shouldn't sleep just now.

Harry quietly accepted the answer, getting to his feet to stretch out his legs. "You're sure of what you're doing when we get there?" he asked, glancing back down at him.

Eggsy kept his eyes on Harry, watching him move about, though he made no motion to move himself. "Didn't tell me much," he reminded him, a hand lifting to fix the earpiece that had been slightly jostled by sleep. "We're going to the church, I'm to sit away from you so we don't look together, earpiece is in so Merlin can contact me if he needs to, got a gun in case of emergency, but I'm mostly just sitting there. That's all you've told me."

"Essentially, that's all I know," Harry sighed, passing a hand through his hair. "We know Valentine is planning on conducting some sort of experiment at the church, but we don't know its nature, nor where he'll be. We're going in mostly blind." His fingers curled into a loose fist before he flexed them out of it. He'd been on plenty of ambiguous missions where the details had been pretty unclear, but he'd only been responsible for himself in the past. Now there was Eggsy to account for. 

Eggsy nodded. He wasn't by any means comfortable with not knowing jack shit about what he was about to get into, but he knew it was going to be okay. He had training, he knew what to look for, he had Merlin in his ear, and he had Harry there. How badly could a church 'test' of some kind even go? "Alright, then I'm as sure of what I'm doing as I can be," he said with a slight twitch of his lips. 

Harry returned to his seat, heaving a sigh. "If things go poorly, get out," he said after a moment. 

Frowning lightly, Eggsy tilted his head as he looked at him. "Sort of the role I'm there for, innit? I got a gun 'if things go poorly,' and Merlin to tell me what to do. I'll go if you decide we both should, but I ain't gonna just bail at the sign of trouble."

"I'm not asking you to bail if there's trouble," Harry said, shaking his head. "But if it only looks like one of us can make it out, make sure that's you." 

Frown deepening, Eggsy didn't say anything. That was absolutely not in his nature. Even if Harry were just another agent, he wouldn't just leave. Throw in that it  _ was _ Harry, his husband whom he  _ loved _ , he couldn't conceive of a scenario which would make him leave and live if it meant Harry stayed and -- well, got into trouble. 

The notion of Harry dying was one Eggsy refused to entertain. And besides, what were the odds any situation like that would crop up?

After heavy seconds of silence, he decided he may as well agree, even if whether or not he honored that agreement remained to be seen. "Okay, Harry."

Harry wasn't entirely sure Eggsy would actually follow through on that, but verbal confirmation was better than nothing. He nodded, glancing down at his watch. Half an hour until they landed and he was as calm as ever. Nerves didn't get to him much anymore, not after years of adrenaline rushes. 

The same couldn't be said for Eggsy. As Harry checked his watch, he checked his phone, and unconsciously his leg began to bounce. He was fine, he knew it would be okay, but still. From now on, no safety nets and all that. 

If Harry thought anything he said or did would help calm Eggsy down, he would have done it. But he all too easily remembered the near gut-wrenching terror he'd had before his own first mission, and there wasn't much that could make that go away.

-

The plane landed miles from the church, two cars waiting for them at the airport. "Merlin will talk you through the route to the church," he informed Eggsy, waiting for the doors to open so they could disembark. "Don't wait for me when you get there; I'll find where you're sitting and steer away." 

The plane touched down and Eggsy’s heart started beating in his throat. He took a breath to steady himself, internally promising himself that as soon as he stepped out of this plane, his nerves were being shoved in the back. That was one thing he was supremely confident in: his ability to fake confidence and ease.

"Right," he agreed as he stood and waited, throwing a glance at Harry over his shoulder. "Then I'll officially see you back at the plane, I guess," he said smiling lightly at him. On the flight back he would no doubt pass out easily. Just a few hours work first. It would be fine. 

"Right," Harry muttered under his breath, sincerely hoping it would be that easy. Get in, stop Valentine, get out, don't die. Simple enough, right?

The plane door opened and the stairs extended. 

Eggsy walked down them first, towards one of the waiting cars.

Harry waited until Eggsy had started up the car before descending to the tarmac and heading for his own. 

The car itself was fairly unremarkable, as Eggsy had assumed it would be. Getting in was a little strange at first -- he'd never been in an American car where everything was flopped the wrong way -- but once it started up and he found the gear switch, it wasn't that big of a deal. He pulled out onto a road, letting Merlin tell him where to go and turn where needed.

All nervousness and shaking were left at the plane, because right now he was a Kentucky resident headed to Sunday church, that was all. The drive itself was thirty extra minutes, and he passed the church and parked half a block away instead. Parking with the regulars would probably seem a bit out of place for someone trying to be discreet about it being his first time visiting, he figured, and walking gave him that much more time to watch the other patrons entering and mirror their gait and ways of carrying themselves. It also gave him a chance to read their lovely signs, including the one declaring 'America is Doomed' front and center. Charming.

As Eggsy stepped through the doors and around the corner, he saw he was in the first group of people arriving, which left a good deal of seating left. Surveying the layout, he figured the best place for him to be would be in the cluster of pews off to the side of the altar, on the end by the organ. That afforded him a good look at the congregation in his periphery should he turn his head slightly, and facing what looked like the back door to the place. His earpiece was on of course, and in the ear that was opposite anyone who should sit next to him; all and all Eggsy felt he was pretty well covered. This was as far as anyone had prepped him for, so now he just had to sit and wait, though for what he wasn't entirely sure.

Harry, well accustomed to all sorts of vehicles, deftly situated himself in the car and started off, letting a few cars merge in between him and Eggsy as naturally as possible. Merlin had sent the path he'd need to take to his glasses, and he followed it until he reached the church, parking with the rest of them and unfolding himself from the car as the majority of people were doing the same.

He nodded a few greetings, muttered a few more, smiled amiably at those who tossed grins his way. The fact that this was a hate group was not lost on him, but all in all they seemed like perfectly normal people. He filed in with a large group, immediately scanning the pews for Eggsy. If Valentine had been there and Eggsy had spotted him, he would have been alerted, so there was no point looking for him. Once he'd found Eggsy, he sat on the opposite side of the church, nearer the middle.

Eggsy caught sight of Harry almost immediately. It was a very good thing he wasn't wearing the full Kingsman suit and glasses either; Harry was quite obviously standing out from the rest of the group. He only glanced at him once as he took his seat, making note of where he was in the room for reference.

The sermon started once everyone had settled and Harry tried to hide the disgust on his face, not that he looked entirely comfortable with the oration. Discreetly, he glanced around when Merlin asked him if there was any sign of Valentine, zeroing in on the security camera.

Eggsy had been rather proud at how he had been able to mimic everyone with his posture and occasional nod. Until the sermon itself began. He could tell it wasn't a church that preached love, but this degree of hate caught him off guard. His nose wrinkled briefly and he sat back in his seat, on principle refusing to cheer or agree with the rest as the man speaking went on about atheists, racist and slut-shaming proclamations, and especially homophobic slurs. But he sat there, calm and at ease if not at all enthused, focused instead on looking for something, anything, to keep from listening too intently to the speech happening a few short feet in front of him.

"No sign of our friend Valentine. I don't think he's coming," Merlin said.

Harry couldn’t help but agree with him. They were well into the sermon by now; if Valentine was going to show, he probably would have done so already. No point wasting any more of their time there, then. He made to get up, but the woman next to him leaned forwards, blocking his way.

"Hey," she whispered, which he largely ignored, still trying to just politely push past her. "Hey, where do you think you're going?"

Well. It seemed this wouldn't be as easy as Harry thought. He sat back and stared at her, blinking once innocently. "I'm a Catholic whore," he stated bluntly. "Currently enjoying congress out of wedlock with my black, Jewish boyfriend who works in a military abortion clinic. So hail Satan, and have a lovely afternoon, madam."

That surprised her enough to let him out, and Harry felt a twinge of irritation when she followed after him, spewing some bullshit about how he was going to 'drown in the blood of the innocent' and 'eat his children.' 

Something swept over him then, a strange sound thrumming in his ears, and he only vaguely registered how strange it was that everyone was suddenly pulling out their phones.

All Harry knew was he had a gun concealed in the front pocket of his jacket, and he would very much like to use it. 

Harry moved in Eggsy’s periphery, and he glanced over to see him getting out of the pew and making his way up the aisle, something it seemed the rest of them were noticing too. 'Fuck,' he thought with mild annoyance, because they couldn't very well both leave at once. He was about to mumble something to Merlin, ask if he should go too, when a strange sound started up around him, one that he felt more than heard. His head was starting to hurt a little, and he touched his temple vaguely and blinked deliberately, hoping it would go away. 

But it just got louder, as did the urge to touch the gun at his ankle. As everyone else's eyes were on Harry, Eggsy looked at him too, his thoughts getting less constructed as the sound grew louder in his own head.

Merlin watched in horror as Harry blew any sort of cover he still had as he pulled his gun out and aimed it at the woman's head. Something seemed to have taken over everyone in the church as they all went stock still, most of them looking at Harry.

Harry shot the gun and the room exploded.

"Eggsy, what the hell is going on?" Merlin shouted, voice reverberating through his earpiece.

Eggsy's eyes widened when Harry pulled the gun, surprise breaking through the haze he was in. As soon as it went off, the gunshot set off a chain reaction, and Harry was gone from his vision, lost in the throng of people suddenly in a frenzy, standing and pulling out weapons and beating the shit out of each other.

"Fucking hell--" Eggsy managed as the shot rang in his ears, but all too soon the echo was gone, and in that moment of silence, he was pulling the gun from the holster at his ankle and firing it off into the back of the head of the man sitting in front of him. 

Just as Eggsy fired it again at the man at his side who had started aiming a punch at him, Merlin yelled in his ear, throwing him off and easing up the noise in his head, bringing him back to himself for a brief moment.

"Merlin--" It was chaotic, chaotic enough that it probably didn't matter who heard him yelling. "I can't--"

The noise grew louder again and Eggsy’s voice cut off abruptly, gun firing another time.

Couldn't what? Merlin watched in horror as Harry and Eggsy suddenly became entrenched in the middle of a veritable war zone that had sprung up out of nowhere. Eggsy had answered him, seemingly pulled out of whatever frenzy they had devolved into. "Eggsy, fucking get out of there," he shouted, working on pulling up a sound he could blare in his earpiece. If that worked he was going to use it; they could figure out where it was coming from, and what it was, later.

Harry's vision was tinged red as he threw himself into the middle of the fray, diving in amongst the writhing congregation, gun blazing.

Merlin's voice in his ear snapped Eggsy out of it temporarily, just as his gun went off yet again, killing the fourth person since the melee started. As soon as Merlin yelled, he came back to himself, just long enough to whip around and look at the back door which remained unblocked.

Once the noise in his ear started, it crashed through the haze Eggsy was in, bringing him rapidly back to his senses. Sparing a glance to where Harry was aggressively cutting through the crowd to the general area he was in, he remembered Harry's plea on the plane. At the time, Eggsy couldn't conceive of a way wherein one of them could make it -- but it seemed this was it. With whatever was fucking them up, Harry probably would kill him and not be any the wiser until it was over. 

It was only a second or two before Eggsy obeyed, vaulting over people and dodging attacks aimed at and around him before he burst out the back door, legs propelling him quickly to the car.

"Fuck," he breathed, reaching the car and looking over his shoulder at the innocent looking church. "I d-... I don't know what the  _ fuck _ that was," he nearly choked, his shoulders tensed, heart pounding from adrenaline.

"Neither do I," Merlin growled, eyes still fixed on the video streaming from Harry's glasses. He didn't think Eggsy could even hear him past the sound he was still blaring in his ear, but he felt like he had to say  _ something. _

This felt wonderful, like Harry was made to do this. Every kill was so easy, the whole thing like a choreographed dance (except when he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and pulled out a knife, but that came in handy later). When his clip was empty, he tossed the gun away carelessly, improvising weaponry as he went, or squirreling some away from others.

Outside, Eggsy panted, gripping the car's frame tightly. He wanted to do something, anything, but he didn't know what. The emotional part of him wanted to go in there and pull Harry away from the madness, to yank him out and drive back to the plane. But the logical part knew he'd be dead soon as he laid a hand on Harry. Harry might be getting beaten up, injured, but he was the only trained agent in a room full of civilians. More than likely, he'd be the last one standing after killing them all. And he would hate himself for it when it was done.

Eggsy didn't hear a thing Merlin said to him, the noise in his ear blocking it, the pounding of his heart blocking the earpiece. Getting in the car seemed as good an option as any, so he got in, slamming the door shut behind him. 

"Merlin, is there a way I could see what's going on-? I could get back there once the fucking frenzy is done with," Eggsy said, searching the car for something, like a back up pair of glasses or anything that could show him video. Even if he could get the audio, he didn't think he'd want it alone.

Seeing as Eggsy was back to normal, Merlin flicked off the noise just long enough to say his piece. "I'll stream it to your phone." As soon as he fell silent, he started the blaring back up. Whatever the reason, it seemed to be working and he wasn't going to risk sending Eggsy back into that state. 

Good enough. Pulling out his phone, Eggsy buried himself in it, pulling up the feed and watching with rapt attention. It was a little disorienting being from Harry's point of view, but from the look of it, it was a massacre in there. Dead bodies were wherever he turned, not to mention the people continually dying by his hands. 

Eggsy’s eyebrows pulled together as his lips pressed into a line, worrying for Harry first and foremost, both presently and for how he was going to handle “waking up” from this, but also marveling at the same time. Harry moved so effortlessly, his whole body in synch as he cut down parishioner after parishioner, in violent, sometimes gruesome ways (was that an incense burner he threw in someone's face?). 

The noise hurt Eggsy’s ear, but he didn't want it to stop either. Like Merlin, all he knew was the sound was keeping him from being in there too, from killing more people himself.

Fuck, he'd killed four people.

-

All Harry knew was that these people were alive, and he wanted them dead. The best part was, he could kill them. He was perfectly capable, even having been stabbed in the shoulder. Didn't matter. He whipped out a grenade, stuffing it one man's pocket and throwing him atop a pile of bodies.

He was closer to the blast than he intended to be when it went off, and he slammed into the ground, disoriented. There was a ringing in his ears and he glanced around, wondering what the fuck was going on. He saw blood, bodies, blood, bodies, blood blood blood... and he was up again, back into it.

Soon there was only one target left, one man standing other than himself. The preacher, the man who'd been spreading that bullshit, spouting it off to those dumb enough to believe him. Harry shoved a stake through the bottom of his jaw with a sort of vicious satisfaction, face twisted in rage as he looked around for another kill, hands trembling for it.

But there was no one left. 

Harry froze, breath heaving in his chest as his senses returned to him. The church had become a mass grave and he looked around disbelievingly, not a single living being in sight. He'd done this. The blood on his hands and face attested to that. This was him, this was his fault, everyone was dead.

Panic ripped through Harry’s chest. Everyone was dead. Everyone was dead. Eggsy. Eggsy had been here. 

He stumbled towards the entrance to the church, glancing from side to side with pure terror in his eyes. Waves of fear, relief, and guilt washed over him in turn with each face he saw that wasn't his husband's, until he'd made it to the front without seeing a sign of him.

Harry opened the doors to find Valentine and Gazelle waiting for him, smirking. Which meant Eggsy was most likely dead even if he had escaped from the massacre indoors. Rage warred with horror as he glared at Valentine. "What did you do to me?" he asked, a deadly calm in his voice. "I killed all those people. I wanted to." 

Eggsy’s heart physically hurt as he watched through Harry's eyes as he looked at the faces on his way out, scanning them and no doubt feeling each one as though he did it himself. Harry moved toward the front doors and Eggsy wanted to scream, to tell him to get out the back doors and get over to the cars, to him, but there was no way Harry would hear.

Eggsy saw Valentine and Gazelle the same time Harry did, panic rising. He should have moved the car, he should have gotten to a vantage point, he should have been better a backup or information source to tell Merlin at the very least that Valentine was nearby and moving. He should have--

"Clever, isn't it? In simple terms, it's a neurological wave that triggers the centers of aggression in the brain, and switches off inhibitors." Valentine looked so smug, so utterly pleased with himself. 

Eggsy felt sick. That at least made him feel somewhat better about the whole ordeal, remembering how not-himself he’d felt when his hand itched for his gun and fired off into four different peoples' skulls. He'd been momentarily blinded by fury, physically incapable of stopping. Christ, how Harry must have felt. 

Harry stalled, pointing out the signal was transmitted through the free SIM cards he had distributed which Eggsy had thought so ingenious. It made sense, and would be something Eggsy would be happy to think over and consider once they were out of there.

But now Valentine was advancing on Harry, the bodyguards’ guns still pointed quite firmly at him. 

Glancing down, Eggsy also noted Valentine had a gun himself. 

"You know what this is like?” Valentine was asking. “It's like those old movies that we both love. Now I'm gonna tell you my whole plan and come up with some absurd and convoluted way to kill you, and you'll come up with some equally convoluted way to escape."

Maybe Eggsy should have spoken to Merlin first, warned him of what he was about to do, but he didn't have time to even think about his actions before his body was taking them. He needed to get to Harry now, that wasn't a point for contention. All signs pointed to extreme danger, and he wasn't going to sit here for a single second longer. 

The car roared to life as Eggsy slammed on the gas, jerking the steering wheel to skid the car around the corner, hurtling towards the group he could now see at the front of the church.

Eggsy’s grip was tight on the wheel, his eyes narrowed in a type of fury that he could manage on his own without the help of neurological waves as he drove recklessly towards the group of people who were pointing their guns at Harry --  _ his  _ Harry -- clearly about to kill him. 

Eggsy saw with some perverse satisfaction the way that Valentine and the others froze momentarily, Valentine's gun still hovering in the air in Harry's direction, as though waiting to see what he would do, as though not believing he was doing what he was about to do. 

A bodyguard fired his gun in Eggsy’s direction, smashing his side mirror. He didn't even let up on the gas.

The car pointed completely at them and made no motion to stop its hurtling momentum, and they ended up needing to dive out of the way to spare themselves from being run down. 

Eggsy had anticipated this, counted on it, but he wouldn't have stopped for a second if they had gambled and lost. Stomping on the breaks as he turned the wheel aggressively, the car tires squealed as smoke burned off the rubber, the car drifting to a stop between Harry and the others who were still protecting themselves on the ground. 

Eggsy trusted Harry to be quick enough to understand what was happening, but it didn't stop him from leaning over and throwing the passenger door open as he spoke, mostly looking out the various windows to make sure they were still momentarily down. "Merlin, we need to get out of here, like, yesterday. We need the plane ready, and I need you to tell me how the fuck I'm getting out of here," he said, voice low and even despite how hard his heart was beating in his chest, how his fingers tingled as adrenaline once again flooded his system.


	25. A Getaway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is a bit late; went to Disney, got wrapped up in all that excitement

Harry had thought he would be afraid to die. He was only human after all, and he didn't particularly look forward to it, especially in the middle of a mission. Dying in the middle of a mission would mean he'd failed to stop whatever threat was pertinent, and there had been only a few times in his career where he'd pondered the possibility.

But there was no fear, not even as Valentine leveled a gun at his head. This man had made him kill Eggsy, or he had killed him himself. Either way, the only thing Harry had room for when he looked at Valentine was pure, unadulterated hatred. The feeling in the church had been different, a more uncontrollable rage. Now, here, he was perfectly under control, fully aware of every way he wanted to make this man suffer.

When he was staring down the barrel of Valentine’s gun, he only wished he could have had his chance for revenge. "Sounds good to-"

He was interrupted by the revving of an engine and the insistent squeal of tires, the jumbled sounds not making sense until a car (Eggsy's car, Harry's mind supplied) skidded around the corner. It barreled straight towards the small group clustered in front of Harry, and suddenly the scene turned frantic, Gazelle bodily slamming Valentine out of the vehicle's path. There was the sharp report of a gun and burst of pain near Harry's ear, a ringing sound filling it. Warm blood trickled slowly down his temple, but Harry didn't have time to focus on anything other than the fact that the passenger door was open, heralding escape from this nightmare of a situation.

Instinct completely took over and Harry’s body moved of its own accord, legs propelling him forward into the car before he could really think about the action. His hand reached forward to tug the door closed behind him, and a bullet smacked into it not a second later.

Merlin, sensing the need for the sound playing in Eggsy's ear was over, switched it off. "The plane will be ready by the time you get there," he promised. "Get out to the main road and take a left."

The car door hadn't even slammed fully shut when Eggsy was starting up again, the back wheels fishtailing on the grass behind him. He stomped on the gas again as shots rang out, banging and denting the body of the car, two smashing the back window. For a second Eggsy thought maybe Valentine had snipers around or their shots were good enough to take them out before they rounded the corner, but they hit the main road, Eggsy made a hard left, and the shots stopped.

It wasn't until then that he noticed the loud sound in his ear had stopped, having so thoroughly ignored and repressed it, but now its absence wrought only headache, a pulsing pain in his temples and behind his eyes making him grimace. 

Eggsy weaved in and out of other cars, trying to remember the roads he had driven to get there through the pain in his head and chest. Once it was safe to, he finally glanced over at Harry, his lips pressing into a thin line and eyebrows pulling together as he noticed the red on his face. "...you're bleeding," he said rather lamely, looking back at the road. He'd been watching through Harry’s glasses, so he'd had no idea when it happened, the rather stupid rescue he’d pulled off a little too reckless for him to get a good look at Harry before he nearly hit him and yanked him in the car.

Harry wasn't entirely sure that this whole scenario was really happening. In reality, he could be lying dead in front of that church and this was just some crazy road to the afterlife. But he wanted to think it was real. Because if it was, that meant Eggsy was alive. That meant he hadn't killed him after all.

When he mentioned blood, Harry remembered the sharp pain from before, all but driven out by adrenaline. He cautiously reached his fingertips up to his temple, running his fingers over a shallow furrow carved out by the bullet that had nearly killed him. The tips came away glistening with blood. "So I am."

"...fuck," Eggsy exhaled, not entirely sure at what it was directed. Everything at once, probably. His insides were a muddied mess of confused feelings: nausea, horror, worry, protectiveness, and one more he was denying at the moment, it was entirely not the time for it. There hadn't been anyone else on the plane, no doubt there was a first aid kit and he would have to help Harry take care of his injury (and no doubt others. Harry was good but there was no way he’d come out without a scratch), not because Harry couldn't, but because Eggsy needed to, to make sure that was all and that he was okay. 

That scared Eggsy -- they both had almost died today. And while the adrenaline of the moment was draining out of him, he didn't doubt that a 'thank god we're alive' rush would kick in once they got up in the air.

Harry had been so consolidated with the thought of dying that it was taking a long time to come out of that mindset. He still didn't know for certain that all of this was real, but the gunshot wound was starting to ache and the pain was helping to ground him. His eyes turned to Eggsy and stayed there, memorizing the lines of his face, still half in awe that he hadn't killed him after all. He wanted to say something, anything, breathe out a grateful 'you're alive' even, but he couldn't make his mouth work. All he could do was stare at Eggsy as the car hurtled on towards the plane. 

Eggsy could feel Harry’s eyes on him, could tell in his periphery Harry was looking at him the entire time, but he couldn't spare the glance to look back at him. Not only was he driving too fast for it to be safe, but he knew he would probably be doing the same if he were given the chance to. 

Eggsy worried his lip, pushing the car ever faster until they had reached the runway again and he had to slow down. It was wonderful to see the waiting plane; he'd never thought he would be so happy to face seven hours of flying again. 

When he parked, Eggsy just sat there for a moment, tired, flopping back against his seat to simply breathe now that he felt he really could.

Harry wanted to reach out and touch him to see if he felt as real as he looked, but he didn't want to shatter the illusion if he wasn't. Better to spend a few more moments in a fantasy. 

Eventually, however, he didn't feel like staying suspended in the limbo of uncertainty, and he reached out to run his fingers down Eggsy’s cheek, making sure it was the hand that wasn't covered in blood. "You're alive," he breathed. 

Eggsy’ couldn't not look at him any longer after that, and he turned his head after he felt fingers brushing against his face. The faintest of smiles on his lips, his eyes quickly mapped over Harry's face, from the wound oozing blood to the blood he didn't think was Harry’s and back to his eyes again; he wanted very badly to just lean over and kiss him gratefully, but he restrained himself. "And you," he replied, his hand lifting to catch Harry's, to touch him. He would have touched his face too, blood be damned, but even with the adrenaline that was no doubt in Harry’s system, he didn't want to accidentally hurt him.

"I thought I'd killed you," Harry said, throat constricting around the words as if he didn't even want to think about what it would mean for that possibility to be true. He glanced at their hands, tangled together as they were before returning his eyes to Eggsy's face. Horrified, he dropped his hand away, pulling it back close to his chest.

'I know,' Eggsy thought, remembering seeing through Harry’s eyes as he’d walked through the church, looking at all the bodies. He didn't even want to try to empathize -- it fucking hurt. His smile fell with their hands, but though Harry retreated, Eggsy's hand followed after, touching his leg instead. "I promised you, didn't I? I'm fine, love. We're fine." They could talk about it later, what he'd done and how he'd gotten out, but now he was still just happy they were both alive.

Harry didn't pull his leg away from Eggsy's grip at first, but once he fell silent again he sighed and shifted away, reaching to open the car door. "We should probably get back to headquarters." 

There were a lot of things they had to discuss, not least of which was what was going to happen to him. They didn't know if whatever the hell that had been had lingering effects, and Harry didn't fancy finding out when it was just him and Eggsy alone in an airplane. "You have your gun?" he asked. 

Eggsy bit back a sigh as Harry got out. But that was alright, he could be patient. He climbed out too, somewhat unsteadily before righting himself properly. 

At Harry’s question, he blinked. That… was a good question. He wasn't sure, actually. Bending down, Eggsy tugged up the slack hem to see his holster empty. Glancing in the car came up empty as well. "No," he admitted, frowning as his eyes focused on nothing as he tried to remember what he could between the bursts of black. The last time he'd had it in his hand had been when Merlin blared the noise in his ear. He had it in his hand, then he was running out the door without it. He must have dropped it in surprise or panic when he came back to himself and hadn't remembered.

Harry frowned. His own was long gone and empty besides. He didn't know if he had anything left besides a lighter grenade, and Eggsy couldn't very well use that to defend himself  _ on a plane. _ "Here," he said, unfastening his watch from around his wrist and offering it to Eggsy. "And take this as well." He slipped the signet ring off his finger and held that out too.

It was fairly apparent what Harry meant as he handed the last few weapons he had to Eggsy. He didn't agree with it, but refusing would only make a conflict that he didn't want to deal with right then. So he accepted them and put them in his pocket, intending to just leave them on a table or something on the plane and return them when they landed, if it made Harry feel better about traveling. "C'mon then," he sighed, moving to climb the stairs to the plane.

Harry trailed after him, not altogether happy with the fact that the ring and watch had been carelessly stored in his pocket, but relieved Eggsy had taken them in the first place. He climbed the steps and entered the plane, reclaiming the seat he'd had before and reaching up to turn the comms on his glasses off. He didn't feel much in the mood for fielding off Merlin's questions.

Eggsy deposited his earpiece as well, rubbing at his ear with a wince. It still hurt a little from all the noise. While he wanted to change, he didn't want to leave Harry alone just yet, so he decided to suffer through the itchy clothing and plopped down beside him, where he'd been before as well.

Harry simultaneously wanted to get as far away from Eggsy as possible and pull him closer, mold them together until he couldn't tell where Eggsy ended and he began. So he settled on neither as Eggsy sat beside him, staring straight ahead.

As Harry neither did nor said anything, Eggsy decided to give in to what he had originally wanted to do, foregoing talking and discussion and just going for what he wanted. He was so happy Harry was alive, happy  _ he _ was alive, he didn't have the time for beating around the bush like this.

"Harry," Eggsy said softly, bringing up his legs and kneeling on the seat, sitting on his feet as he reached forward with both of his hands to touch his face and attempt to tilt his head towards him.

At the sound of Eggsy's voice, Harry turned to face him, guided by the younger man's hands. His brow furrowed, head tilting curiously to one side.

Only allowing a brief moment for Harry to look at him, Eggsy disregarded his original fear of hurting him to hold his head steady and lean in to kiss him. He might have needed to be gentle, but he kissed like he hadn't seen him in weeks, his whole body leaning into him.

The crush of Eggsy's lips against his was the first time Harry was really and truly convinced he was sitting on the plane, alive, about to fly back to headquarters. Eggsy had somehow gotten out of the church. He hadn't killed him. He was here. Kissing him. Harry groaned and wrapped his arms around him, practically hauling him half over the armrest of the seat. He needed to feel him.

Eggsy was more than happy to press forward into him, as much as he could given their current position, tongue tracing Harry’s lips to deepen it, his hands falling to his shirt. As his eyes closed, he tugged Harry’s tie out of his coat and loosened it, wanting to touch him everywhere, kiss him everywhere.

Harry's lips parted almost desperately, his fingers tugging at the material of the sweater vest. He rucked that and Eggsy's shirt up as much as he could, sliding his hands over the bare skin of Eggsy's back.

Shivers running down his spine, Eggsy threw the tie away as his tongue pushed into Harry’s mouth and nearly devoured his lips. Moaning softly into his mouth, he pulled at the buttons of his shirt, wanting it the fuck off his very alive body. In the privacy of his own head -- as he thought it wasn't the time to be saying anything about it -- he also remembered how fucking amazing Harry had looked in action, intimidating and beautiful.

Harry would have helped Eggsy with his buttons, but he was too busy trying to run his fingers over every inch of skin that he could reach. There weren't many thoughts in his head other than 'Eggsy is alive, and he's mine.' And at the moment, that was really all he needed. 

He parted from his lips long enough to murmur, “Harry,” again, tugging at his shirt and his coat, clearly wanting them gone but not able to undo it fully due to the awkward angle they were positioned in. Once he had sighed his name, he went right back to claiming his mouth, wishing they were standing, or at the very least on a couch of sorts. The armrest was proving quite the annoyance.

Responding to Eggsy's insistent tugging, Harry stripped himself of his coat, letting it fall away from him. He tried to do the same with his shirt, but they hadn't quite got all the buttons, and he would have huffed in irritation had his mouth not been otherwise occupied. As he twisted his arm to try and force it off anyways, he suddenly broke away, teeth gritting as a lance of pain shot through him. Oh, right. He'd been stabbed. 

The lust he'd been giving into was suddenly broken at Harry’s obvious reaction in the face of pain, and Eggsy backed off, eyebrows raising in concern though his pupils were still wide. "What's wrong?" he said instinctively, leaning away from him lest he hurt him, as he had no idea where the injury was.

"I was stabbed," Harry muttered, gingerly reaching back with his free hand to explore the wound. It was too far down for him to really be able to reach it or crane his head back and see it, and he sighed, dropping his arm. 

"St--" Of course, of course Harry was fucking stabbed. "Can I see then?" Eggsy asked, sitting back on his ankles. He wasn't medically trained or anything, but he would still have liked to see the extent of the damage. A facial wound from what must have been a gunshot, a stab wound... He should feel rather lucky that nothing worse had been done, but still, it was by no means  _ good. _

Slightly uneasy considering he had no idea what the extent of his wound was, Harry shifted until his back was to Eggsy. He undid the remaining buttons, letting his shirt fall away finally, and feeling more self conscious around Eggsy than he had in a long time.

The wound, once exposed to him, was red and angry, still fresh and no doubt painful standing out against Harry’s light skin. It was clearly going to scar over, become another mark to join the others on his back and his front; at least Harry wouldn't be the one to see it. It looked like it was delivered random and harsh, though with the way the slit was, it seemed it didn't just stab in and fall away. Harry must have left it in for awhile, either accidentally or on purpose. 

"...you'll probably need some stitches on that," Eggsy said as he frowned over it, wishing more extensive field medical techniques had been covered in training. He could do a tourniquet and bind minor wounds, but he didn't quite know how to deal with this. Besides, he should just keep it covered anyway, let medical deal with it once they landed.

With Harry’s back exposed to him (not often that it was), Eggsy let his hands trail down his spine and back up away from the injury, rubbing in a gentle way that he himself usually found soothing.

The probability of needing stitches had already occurred to Harry, and the confirmation was hardly surprising. He could easily wait till they got back to medical to deal with that.

He started a little when Eggsy put his hands on him, running them slowly up and down his back. After a lingering second he relaxed into it, rather enjoying the feeling.

As Harry relaxed, Eggsy took it as a good sign and continued what he was doing, a hybrid back massage and light scratches. He leaned in and pressed his lips gently to the back of Harry’s neck.

A small shudder ran through Harry as he felt Eggsy's lips ghost over the back of his neck. He wanted to turn back around and haul him in for another open-mouthed kiss, shoulder wound be damned. So he did. 

Harry twisted around, hand reaching to gather up the material of the sweater vest he didn't care about ruining and pulled Eggsy forward by it, bringing their mouths together again.

The suddenness of the action caught Eggsy off guard. Especially with a wound like that, he had thought Harry would back off in fear of injuring himself further, and he had been content with the idea of soothing and reassuring him for the duration of the flight. 

Sure, what Eggsy personally wanted after a first mission like that, seeing Harry in action where he moved with such fluidity, confidence, and power, almost getting killed and saving Harry from almost certainly getting killed too, was to toss his glasses away, rip off the rest of his clothing, and fuck him. Harry pulling him in for a kiss as desperate as the one he would have given him threw Eggsy off for just a second, and then he was returning it, eyes closed, hands immediately going to touch his chest and stomach and falling to grasp a handful each of the suit material on his thighs, holding there as they kissed.

Harry only broke away once he needed air, hands tugging insistently at the material of Eggsy’s sweater vest. He didn't want to think, just for a little bit, because he already knew what his thoughts would be. He'd have plenty of time to relive that nightmare later; right now all he wanted was Eggsy.

Panting lightly from forcing himself to go without air for so long, Eggsy pulled back to toss away the sweater, leaning in to kiss Harry's jaw and neck while he made quick work of undoing the fastenings so he could toss the button up away as well. "Glasses?" he asked quietly into the warm flesh of Harry’s neck.

At the reminder, Harry reached up to take off his glasses, setting them over on the free seat beside him. His head tilted automatically to one side as Eggsy mouthed at his neck.

Not breaking from the kisses he peppered his neck with, Eggsy slunk out of his seat to kneel between Harry’s legs instead to be closer to him, his hands once again hooking on the fabric covering his thighs.

Harry leaned forward so as to reach him better, hands sliding slowly down Eggsy's back, his fingers lingering over every landmark they found, every bone, every defined muscle, every scar. With each new addition to his mental map of Eggsy's body, he solidified his assurance that he was alive, that he loved him.

Eggsy pulled back from kissing Harry’s neck to press shorter, closed-mouth kisses to his lips and withdrew. The glasses being gone left Harry looking more vulnerable, the blood both his and not his standing out, and Eggsy was so grateful he was alive and here with him, his chest hurt. He wanted to pull Harry into his arms and kiss him the whole plane ride back, and try and let his body say what he couldn't in words.

Eggsy's hands slid slowly off of Harry as he stood, offering a hand to him as an invitation to stand with him. Sitting was nice, but Eggsy couldn't do nearly enough of what he wanted.

Harry just stopped himself from reaching out for Eggsy as he pulled away, quelling the instinct. If distance was something Eggsy needed, distance was something Harry would give. But then there was a hand extending towards him and he accepted it, standing. 

As soon as he pulled Harry up, Eggsy pulled him into his arms, finding it much more conducive to touching him how he wanted. His arms wound around Harry, mindful of the stab wound, one slung around his back, the other resting on his arse possessively. He couldn't help himself really, and he leaned in to steal his lips.

Harry didn't pull away from his touch, head angling down. His hands rested carefully on Eggsy's hips, not really gripping him, almost as if he was afraid to.

Eggsy pulled away again, wanting to press their foreheads together but also not wanting to hurt his head, so he just hovered over him instead. "...Harry."

Thinking he'd done something, that Eggsy had finally come back to himself and realized what it was he had done, Harry instantly dropped his hands and backed away.

Surprised, Eggsy’s arms hung in the air an extra second after Harry had stepped out of them, and he frowned. "... _ Harry. _ "

Eggsy understood why Harry was being so careful with him, but he refused to let him. He wanted him to be rougher, more deliberately touching him like he had been, like he’d done before. He'd seen what Harry was capable of, but he was hardly scared of him or concerned, even with everything that had happened. Eggsy followed after him, firmly grasping his hips to keep him in place. "You don’t gotta be careful with me like that."

Harry hesitated before slowly reaching out, arms sliding around Eggsy and drawing him closer. "I love you," he said softly, eyes closing. He needed to remind himself as much as Eggsy. He loved him and wouldn't hurt him, not now that he was back to himself.

Better. Eggsy slid his arms around Harry as well once it was apparent he wasn't going to back away again. He tucked his head into the curve of his neck while he was at it, sighing quietly to himself. "And I love you," he echoed, reminding him much the same. He still did, and he still would have even if Harry had managed to take a swing at him if he hadn't gotten out in time. He wasn't afraid. 

They stood like that for a long moment, Harry bending his head over Eggsy's protectively even if there was no threat. Slowly, he started to walk him backwards, one step at a time. 

It took Eggsy a second to catch on with the first step, but after that he let himself be guided back, keeping his head pressed in Harry’s neck.

Harry didn't stop until Eggsy was pressed against the slightly curved wall of the airplane. He didn't want to push Eggsy away from his neck, but he very much wanted to kiss him again and, unfortunately, he couldn't have both. 

Luckily for Harry, Eggsy lifted his head as soon as his back hit a solid mass. The hands on Harry’s back tightened their grip somewhat, and after tilting his head and looking from Harry’s eyes down to his lips, he tilted his head up, wordlessly asking for a kiss.

Only too happy to give in to the unspoken request, Harry dipped his head, bringing their lips together again. He was thrown right back into the desperation of before, the permission he'd been granted urging his tongue to sweep over Eggsy’s mouth. The taste of iron seemed to fill his own, and he needed something else. 

Eggsy parted his lips for him almost immediately, the sudden return from careful touches to desperate kissing pulling a quiet noise from his throat as he invited his tongue into his mouth, his chest arching into his body.

Harry's tongue swept into his mouth, greedily hunting for any taste of Eggsy could he find. Almost unconsciously he pushed forward, pressing back against the force of Eggsy's chest. 

There was something about the pressure of Harry’s body pushing against him along with the cold wall behind him that made Eggsy shiver, made him blindly wind one leg around Harry's, the hands on him pulling as though trying to get closer to him though that was almost impossible at that point. 

Breath hitching slightly as Eggsy's leg wrapped around him, Harry moaned a second later. Blindly, his hands wrapped around Eggsy's wrists, tugging Eggsy's arms over his head and pinning them against the wall with one hand.

Eggsy let himself be pliant, allowing Harry to draw his arms up and pin them; and honestly, as it was Harry doing it, he was finding himself rather turned on by it. Playfully, he nipped at his bottom lip, squeezing his leg encouragingly with his own.

Harry's hips rolled against Eggsy's as he surged forward, grinding easily against him as his leg was hitched a bit further up. The taste of Eggsy flooding his mouth by that point, he fell to kissing his neck instead. He wasn't careful with it, teeth finding his flesh as often as his lips. 

Mouth released, Eggsy let his head fall back against the wall as his lips parted, exposing more of his neck to Harry, or as much as he could with his arms pinned up. A breathy moan escaped him, especially as teeth toyed with his skin.

Harry sucked a mark right at the base of Eggsy’s throat, bruising it deep purple before dropping down to his collar bone. Slowly, deliberately, he placed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, releasing his hold on Eggsy's wrists as he kissed a path down his chest, sinking down onto his knees. His tongue laved over his belly button as his fingers worked to undo his slacks.

Eggsy's hands fell slowly to press against the wall at his sides, his head lifting from it to watch as Harry sank lower and lower down on his body. He almost helped him to undo the fastenings on his trousers, eager as he was to get them off of him for many reasons. Not the least of which included that increasingly maddening tongue of his, leaving his skin burning in its wake.

The button of the slacks presented no problem at all, and Harry quickly popped it free. The zipper, however, he took his time with, tugging it down one notch at a time. Every one warranted a kiss somewhere on Eggsy's abdomen and, when it had been unzipped far enough that the fabric at the waistline had started to sag downwards, he expanded that to include Eggsy’s hips.

Eventually, however, Harry ran out of zipper and let the slacks fall as they would, pulling them down to his ankles when they caught on Eggsy's thighs.

The slowness of pulling down his zipper alone was maddening, however much Eggsy also enjoyed the amount of kisses to his stomach and hips. He let Harry do as he liked, however, his hands balling into fists on the wall so that he may remain quiet. But he watched Harry, lips twitching and smiling faintly.

Harry returned to Eggsy's hipbone, running his tongue along its curve until he reached the waistband of his underwear, moving to do the same to the other hip. His hands ran up the inside of Eggsy's thighs lightly, barely touching his skin. He lowered his mouth until it was hovering over his cock, eyes sweeping up to glance at him before mouthing over the fabric.

It was a source of pleasure in and of itself just to look down and watch Harry, see his husband mouthing over his cock trapped in his boxer-briefs let alone the act itself. As he did, he exhaled a breath he must have been holding, tongue subconsciously peeking out of the corner of his lips as he almost smirked down at him.

Not half satisfied with simply mouthing over him, Harry's fingers pulled insistently at his boxers, sending them down to join Eggsy's slacks in a puddle on the floor. He wrapped his hand loosely around his shaft, giving it one long stroke with barely any pressure. 

Harry was killing him, slowly, methodically killing him. The desperation of the kiss and the pressure into the wall left Eggsy wanting, virtually whining for more, and Harry was being so light when all he wanted was to be overwhelmed; but he couldn't say a thing about it, he had to push through the torture. His hips did twitch, nudging his cock into his hand a bit more.

With barely any warning, Harry's hand circled the base of Eggsy's cock, grip firmer this time, and he sank onto him, taking as much of him in as he could in one go. 

Eggsy gasped suddenly, the sudden feeling of Harry’s mouth around him nearly making his knees weak, and it was only through force of will that he didn't sink down on the wall a little. "...fuck," he breathed, his head falling back against the wall.

Harry reared back until only the head was still resting in his mouth, his hand following quickly behind so as to keep the heat built up. He swirled his tongue around, dragging it rather more roughly around the edges, encouraged by the soft curses he could hear above him. 

Eggsy looked down again to him, one hand lifting from the wall to entangle in Harry’s already messy hair, stroking through it as he watched his mouth specifically.

Harry hummed at the feeling of a hand in his hair, eyes sliding closed as he bobbed his head forwards, taking Eggsy's cock back into his mouth. He settled into a steady rhythm, lips and hand working synchronously to wind Eggsy up.

And it was working pretty well. As Harry took him in, Eggsy moaned unabashedly, the hand in his hair tightening unconsciously. Much as he wanted to keep looking, his body wanted otherwise, eyes fluttering closed in the face of the heat that was rapidly building inside him.

Harry steadily increased his pace, bobbing back and forth faster until he suddenly slowed and pulled his mouth off. His hand stayed however, giving Eggsy long, languorous strokes.

By the time he stopped, Eggsy was warm nearly everywhere, quiet 'ah's or otherwise small noises escaping every few seconds or when he was suddenly hit by pleasure. It was a good thing Harry had pulled off when he did, or he would have been properly overwhelmed quite soon. 

Eggsy grinned lazily as he lifted his head to look down at him, mentally urging his body to calm down again. "Mmm... C'mere," he said, hand falling from his hair.

Harry rose to stand, not even registering any pain in his knees that might have been there. The stab wound in his shoulder had set a pretty high bar for pain. 

As soon as he was up, Eggsy pulled him in by a hand on his neck, gently guiding him in to press a dirty, open-mouthed kiss to his lips. He was trying to wind down, but he needed to taste Harry, even with the taste of himself still lingering on his tongue.

Harry's lips parted eagerly, Eggsy's particular flavor only growing stronger as he gave in to the kiss.

Eggsy was new to love still, unfamiliar with its feelings and what they all meant, he just knew what it was. And it could only have been love that was making his heart feel so full it was overflowing, love and gratitude making him want to kiss Hary until they couldn't breathe and then kiss him some more, pull him close until he couldn't tell what was him and what was Harry. He sighed into his mouth, arms winding around at his ribs and holding him tight as his leg stepped out of his clothes and lifted with ease to wrap around his waist as he continued to kiss him.

There was something different in the way Eggsy was kissing him. It wasn't like any kiss they'd shared before, and that honestly made Harry a little disappointed, because whatever this was, he didn't think he'd get used to it or stop craving it anytime soon. Everything that wasn't Eggsy fell away, and he pressed as close to him as he could get, hands falling to his hips and gripping them, supporting him as he wound a leg around his waist. He broke away from the kiss just long enough to murmur, "Eggsy," softly before he was right back to it. 

A moan quietly reverberated between their interlocked lips, Eggsy’s wet cock pressed against his belly by Harry's body not helping matters. He had to break away after a short while more of kissing, pressing their foreheads together as his leg tightened around him, hips trying to tilt into Harry's. "Fuck me?" He spoke quietly, a soft question posed to him in contrast to the other times when he had quite assertively taken what he wanted without asking, just trusting him to stop should he want to. Harry was all he wanted right now.

The angling of Eggsy's hips into his, the warmth of his leg slung around his hip, the hard line of his cock pressing into his stomach all urged Harry to say yes. Truthfully, he would have wanted to say yes even if they were both still fully clothed and standing on opposite sides of the plane. "I can't," he sighed. "I don't have... anything."

"Thought spies were supposed to be resourceful," Eggsy said, lightly teasing, tilting his head to press barely-there kisses to the corner of Harry’s lips. He'd anticipated the condom problem, but they'd forgotten once in the last 36 hours... Was twice really going to hurt all that much, anyway?

Groaning, and throwing away his better judgement, Harry reclaimed Eggsy’s mouth with a kiss, working at the button of his own slacks to get them off. 

Eggsy kissed him back contentedly, his eyes sliding closed as he lowered his leg from his waist to allow him to rid himself of his pants without obstacle. He didn't know if he was giving in or finding something else, but truthfully either way would be fine. He couldn't change the fact that they hadn't thought to be prepared for  _ this. _

Harry let his pants fall to the floor, stepping out of them and shoving them off to one side with his foot. He broke away from Eggsy, tugging him away from the wall by his hips. "Are you sure about this?" he asked softly.

Eggsy followed his tugging, stepping completely out of the trousers still clinging to one of his ankles, and looked at him with a faint smile. "I want you," he said simply, loosening his hands on him to rest more comfortably by his waist. "But I can wait if you think that's best."

While he certainly might have thought waiting was best, Harry couldn't deny that Eggsy looked extremely fuckable with his kiss-swollen lips and lust-blown pupils. Not to mention the 'I want you' that went straight to his cock. 

"Dammit," Harry groaned. Resisting Eggsy at the best of times would have been difficult; resisting him when he was still riding an adrenaline high was practically impossible. "On the floor, then."

Secretly, Eggsy was quite pleased. He had deliberately tried to be non-persuasive, impartially stating facts, but his body must have been persuasive enough. He'd have to really try and seduce him into sex from square one sometime when they were home. But he kept his face mostly in that same innocent smile rather than a pleased smirk as he did as Harry asked.

Harry followed him down, hovering over him so he could he kiss him.

Never one to say no to kisses, Eggsy lifted one of his hands to Harry's hair, fingers running through it as he kissed him back.

Harry didn't spend much time kissing his mouth; soon he moved further down, teeth and tongue sliding over Eggsy's jaw and neck and collarbone. He kissed over one of his shoulders, trailing down the side of his body, lips on every inch he could reach.

Eggsy kept his hand in Harry’s hair until the angle insisted otherwise, enjoying every subtle scrape of teeth and wet flick of tongue, his head tilting as he watched Harry's descent down his body.

Eventually, Harry reached his hips and his teeth scraped gently across the bone jutting out. "Turn over," he muttered, not bothering to move very far away from his skin.

Humming once Harry reached his hips, Eggsy obeyed, turning over onto his stomach and moving some clothing underneath him after a second's pause.

Harry paused, taking a second to run his eyes appreciatively over Eggsy's body. It wasn't often that he got to see it splayed out in front of him like this, and he wasn't going to miss out on the opportunity to take it in. When he was close to satisfied (though he never truly could be), he leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly to the base of his spine. "On your knees," he muttered as he pulled back.

Smirking, Eggsy propped himself up to look over his shoulder as he edged himself onto his knees, his slacks beneath them to soften the awful carpeting of the plane. "Used to have dreams of you saying that," he teased.

That gave Harry pause. "You did?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. He hadn't thought Eggsy had dreamed about him at all, before they'd slept together the first time, anyways. 

"I'll regale you later," Eggsy promised, lowering his head again. "Now ain't really the time, being naked in a plane and all that," he chuckled lightly, wiggling his hips.

Harry smirked at that. Eggsy was certainly right about that, he thought, dipping his head again. His hands spread Eggsy open and he ran his tongue lightly over his hole a few times, enough to let him get used to the sensation. 

Eggsy definitely wasn't used to this particular feeling, his hands curling into fists as he bit on his lip. He knew it was coming -- of course it was -- but still, the feeling of a wet muscle on him nearly made him jump. His head fell a little lower.

Harry, noticing how Eggsy reacted, switched to longer strokes, barely any time between them. He steadily worked his way closer and closer until he was directly over his hole, circling it with his tongue.

The anticipation building was worse than Eggsy had thought it might be, some of his muscles tensing the closer he got. His eyes, hidden from Harry, squeezed themselves shut, jaw clenching to keep back what would no doubt be an embarrassing whine.

It was easy to read the anticipation in the hard line of Eggsy's muscles, and Harry didn't tease him much longer. He swirled his tongue around once more before sliding it inside of him.

"Oh fuck," Eggsy muttered under his breath, the tension in his muscles certainly not lessening.

Harry didn't move right away, hands able to feel the way Eggsy was still tensed. Eventually he started up, pulling his tongue back out and running it along the edge of his hole again before pushing it back into him. 

Mind already thoroughly clouded by lust, Eggsy was finding it extra difficult to find words in his thoughts. Which was a shame, as he wanted to find the proper words to describe what Harry was doing to him so he could remember it fully later on. He was rapidly melting, muscles relaxing bit by bit as he buried his head in his arms, breath catching in his chest when Harry pushed his tongue into his body.

Internally smirking to himself as he caught the hitch in Eggsy’s breath, Harry started tongue-fucking Eggsy leisurely to the disappointment of his own aching cock. After a time, he didn't have as much control over himself and his pace increased, grew sloppy, tongue catching on the rim of Eggsy's hole as he pulled back. 

"Fuck, fuck--" Eggsy groaned on the exhale of a breath he had been holding, the air coming back in in broken, uneven hitches the less controlled Harry got. "God--" he muttered into his arms, and he didn't want Harry to stop at the same time as he wanted him to hurry the fuck up, the heat starting to pool in his stomach.

It was at that point that Harry added a finger along with his tongue, stretching him as best he could with the digit as he fucked him with both. He ran his tongue along his finger with each pull out, crooking it so that it caught his prostate right as his tongue ran along the edge of his hole.

Eggsy very nearly choked when his prostate was hit, the nerves and Harry's tongue both sending a wave of pleasure through his body. A moan, higher than he was expecting, pulled out of him as his head lifted from his arms, back bending him in a U shape. "Harry-- God, Harry, please--" he babbled, praying his body was nearly ready for him; his mind had been for quite some time now.

A real smirk on his face now, Harry lifted his head, tilting it slightly to one side even if Eggsy couldn't even see it. The pad of his finger rubbed back and forth over the small cluster of nerves as he spoke, almost lazily as if he didn't even realize he was doing it. "Please what?" 

"Nn--" Eggsy gasped, the shocks making it hard to really think through and grasp at words. "Please fuck me. Your fingers and tongue are good, but -- mmm -- your cock is better," he said almost breathlessly, turning his head to throw a half-grin over his shoulder, face slightly pink. "Fuck me," he said again, nudging his hips back to fuck onto Harry’s fingers a bit more.

Harry finally stopped his assault on Eggsy's prostate, working in a second finger alongside the first to scissor him open a bit more. Eggsy's words went straight to his cock, and he wasn't keen on waiting much longer either. After waiting for as long as he could manage, he wrapped his spit-slick palm around his cock, giving it a couple of strokes before guiding Eggsy's hips down a bit. Slowly, he began pushing inside him, nearly groaning at how tight he was. 

Lamenting the loss of Harry’s fingers as soon as they left him, Eggsy let his eyes slide closed as he faced forward again, letting himself be taken by surprise. His heart thudded a little faster in his chest the moment he felt Harry’s hands on him again, tilting his hips to a more advantageous position, and seemed to skip one quick beat as he felt Harry pushing forward into him. He exhaled an 'ah', keeping his lower half nice and relaxed for him. He could feel the lack of lube, but it was a slight and necessary adjustment before he got used to it. When Harry was fully sheathed in him, he groaned a quiet, “yes,” every part of him screaming approval.

Harry exhaled audibly as he sank further into Eggsy. When he'd bottomed out, he stayed still for a moment. Eggsy would need a moment or two to adjust, that much he knew. When he felt like he'd had enough time, he started moving, hands gripping Eggsy’s hips to keep him steady as he pulled out and pushed back in.

Eggsy's teeth clenched and he hissed in breath between them as Harry began moving. He loved this position, Harry able to go deep inside him and thrust without much hindrance, but he wished he could see him, his body moving as well as his face for signs of the reaction he could only slightly hear above his own panting breaths. His hips pushed back as Harry slid in, encouraging him to go harder, faster, that he could take it. Which he was fairly certain was true.

It wasn't until Eggsy started pushing back to meet him that Harry sped up, breath coming a little faster, a little harder. On very few occasions had he fucked someone like this. There was something a little depersonalizing about it, though, considering he couldn't see his face. The range of expressions he pulled from Eggsy was one of his favorite parts of fucking him, and that was gone. But he could still tell it was Eggsy by the speckling of moles on his pale back, and the few whimpers he could hear escaping him. His hand snaked around Eggsy's waist, wrapping around his cock and giving it one, long stroke. 

Eggsy's legs spread a little bit further for him, his attempt at keeping back noises ruined as soon as Harry touched him. "Shit, Harry," he groaned, supporting himself with one hand and reaching down with the other to touch Harry's around him. His hands were great, feeling him fucking into him and his warm weight pressing into him his favourite thing, but after a day like today, when he wanted to cum, he wanted to see him. "...wait," he muttered, holding his hand still, finding it hard to stop him, especially when it was feeling so good.

It took a second for that request to register. Every part of Harry felt so warm that he barely even noticed Eggsy's hand settling over top of his, barely heard his voice over the pounding of his heart. Once he'd realized, however, he stopped, breath heaving through his chest. "Are you alright?" he asked, voice thick with concern and tinged with anxiety. "Have I hurt you?" 

"No no." Eggsy shook his head, delicately pulling away from Harry just enough to turn over, the hand not supporting himself hooking around his neck. Tugging Harry down, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips, breathing accelerated against his skin. "Much as I like this one, I just wanted to see you,” he explained as he settled beneath him, one of his legs nudging along one of Harry’s as he smirk-smiled up at him.

A wave of relief swept through him at Eggsy's reassurance, and Harry hummed at the kiss, moving to give him a proper one as he settled in on top of him. Gently, he rocked forward again, nudging Eggsy's legs apart to fit better in between them, his hips rolling against Eggsy's.

As what was his usual reaction it seemed, Eggsy wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders and a leg hooked around him to cling to his warm body. "As you were," he hummed low yet playfully against his lips, his hips nudging upward to roll back against him once before trying to angle themselves to let him push in again.

Harry resumed fucking him thoroughly, working his way back up to the pace they'd been at far faster than he had before. Soon he was breathing hard, stomach brimming with heat and he knew he'd have to stop soon or risk coming in Eggsy again.

The momentary pause had done little to cool off the heat inside of him, and the immediate return to a punishing pace was sure as hell not helping. "Fuck!" Eggsy’s head fell back against the floor, body arching up into Harry's as his hand, unable to help itself, slid between their bodies to jerk himself to the thrusts, pushing himself closer and closer almost alarmingly fast. "Harry..." he murmured, eyes hazy but opened and focused on him, as was the whole point of the endeavor. 

"Eggsy," Harry panted. His arms were bracketing either side of Eggsy's head and his hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms. His hips snapped forward once more, and he felt the coil in his abdomen nearly burst. With a sharp gasp, he pulled out of him, cock achingly hard.

As much as Eggsy noticed the abrupt withdrawal, he was far enough gone on his own body that he couldn't much articulate on it. His hips lifted in the air, as if trying to follow Harry for more, coax him back in. "Mmm," he hummed, biting his lip a moment as he felt the tenseness in him wind up, ready to snap. He swallowed down the dirty request that came to his lips, not sure how Harry would respond and not wanting to make things awkward, especially so close to coming. 

It didn't take much longer to push himself to it, his hand moving rapidly and lips parting as he looked up at Harry, eyes locked for just a few beats. Then, moaning as his body stretched beneath him, Eggsy let himself come, his hips thrusting themselves in the air, hands curled into fists on the ground as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, leaving him gasping.

Harry took himself in hand as he watched Eggsy arching towards him, eyes flicking to meet his for a few brief seconds. Then he was moaning, coming as his husband did, spurred on both by his own stroking and the sight of Eggsy splayed out beneath him, hips thrusting uselessly into the air. 

When the most of it was over, Eggsy fell back against the itchy carpeting, panting and limp as the aftershocks of twitches lazily rolled over him. His eyes shut, a half-smirk on his lips, his hand releasing his tired cock and resting on his sticky abdomen.

For a second Harry hesitated, unsure as to how Eggsy would react, but he wasn't in the mood to tamp down his urges, not with everything that had just happened. He pulled Eggsy's hand out of the way and leaned down to lick up the stripes of cum painting his stomach and the head of his cock, humming slightly at the taste.

Eyes that had slid shut opened again the second he felt Harry’s tongue on him, his head lifting to look down and see what he was doing. And what it was was enough to make his cock twitch pathetically; Eggsy almost wished he wasn't worn out, because watching Harry lick his cum away was hot as hell. "Mmmmm," he hummed pleasantly and approvingly, eyes half-lidded.

Harry didn't pull away until he'd licked up every trace, moving to lie next to Eggsy on his back. Sighing, he started to come down from the last few hours, the adrenaline, the lust, all of it beginning to leach out and leave him feeling little more than exhausted.

Eggsy felt much the same, completely drained and quite ready for some of that sleep he hadn't gotten much of the past few days. His body felt heavy, too heavy to move, so he made do just lying there on top of their clothing, letting himself recharge before he would have to gather up clothes to cover himself. 

Turning his head took more effort than it should have, but Eggsy did to look over at Harry, who looked just as tired as he was, if not more so. "...I love you," he said quietly, the words coming out of him without much thought; he did, and after everything that had happened today, all of it, he wanted to make certain Harry knew.

Harry wanted to sleep. 

His eyes had closed, but they flickered open as Eggsy spoke, head falling to one side so he could see him. 'I thought I'd lost you' ran through his head on ticker tape, the thought all-pervasive. More than that, he'd been convinced that he was the one who had ended Eggsy, and he felt waves of nausea roll through him at the thought. Quickly, he hauled himself to his feet, stumbling to the small bathroom and retching into the toilet.

The sleepiness ebbed due to the suddenness of motion, and Eggsy sat up, extremely confused and rubbing his head as he heard sounds of Harry... almost vomiting? Not quite the reaction he'd been expecting. "...keep that to myself then, yeah," he mumbled to himself, rolling onto his side and pushing himself onto wobbly knees. 

He edged over towards the bathroom, concern beating out the aching setting in from all over and the signs of an impending headache. "Harry?" Eggsy asked near the doorway, hand on the wall to keep himself steady and upright against the plane moving and his legs not wanting to cooperate.

If Harry had had anything in his stomach, he would have thrown it up, but as it was he was left heaving emptily, nausea still striking him acutely. He wanted to tell Eggsy to leave him alone, but he couldn't seem to find the breath to speak; it all seemed caught up in his chest. Vaguely it occurred to him that he should probably reassure Eggsy that this had nothing to do with him or what had just happened, but if he couldn't get out three simple words, there was no way that was all happening.

Eggsy wanted to have supreme confidence that the Harry that had clung onto him and kissed him so earnestly could in no way be retching into a toilet after sex and an 'I love you,' wanted to be sure that that was ridiculous and obviously the two weren't related. But that was a little difficult to be fully convinced of when Harry had seemed fine only to run to the bathroom after Eggsy had professed his love. Bit too convenient, that.

It didn't seem as though Harry could speak much at the moment, and Eggsy's standing there wobbily wasn't helping anything. He made his way back to the pile of clothing on the floor, bending carefully to grab his undergarments and slacks. Pain was starting to really settle in now, from the mild burning on his skin from the carpet and ache of his thighs from sex and the old sex injuries of the bruises on his waist getting hit and jostled, to the ringing in his ears and left-over headache from the noise Merlin had blared, and the chest ache from his heart protesting all its work that day. 

Eggsy wanted to be there with Harry to make sure he was okay, so he kept himself at least facing the restroom, but he couldn't help much, he knew, so he settled in one of the available seats, still bereft of a shirt and resting a hand on his forehead as he kept one eye on the door.

Harry didn't have anything left to focus on now that the adrenaline was gone, now that the overwhelming relief that Eggsy was alive was gone, now the bloodlust singing through his veins was gone. All of that had cleared away and let him think clearly for the first time since he'd stepped into that church and that had hit him full force. He remembered everything, every second of it, every face of every innocent person whose life he had cut short.

His stomach heaved again, and the only thing there was a burning acid, stinging his throat. Groaning, Harry pawed at the door, fingers eventually catching it and swinging it shut.

As the door swung shut, Eggsy frowned. Well, obviously Harry didn't want him there, and he could understand that if he was feeling so ill, but he did kind of wish Harry had told him... anything at all. 

Eggsy wanted to stay awake, to check on him as soon as he was ready, but he couldn't, he just couldn't override how tired his mind and body both were. He yawned, eyes sliding closed, and he slumped a little more in the seat, black overtaking him much sooner than he had thought it would.

It took a while for Harry to really compose himself, most of that time spent hunched over, trying to stop his hands from shaking. Eventually, he managed to haul himself up from the floor of the bathroom, cautiously opening the door. Eggsy appeared to be asleep, and he quietly slipped out and dressed himself again, sinking into a seat a few rows over. He didn't trust himself to be too close to Eggsy. It wasn't long after he'd leaned his head back and closed his eyes that Harry, too, asleep. 

It took until the turbulence of the plane descending for Eggsy to even slightly rouse, what felt like minutes after he had sat down. His eyes cracked open to see a city with glittering lights out the window, and he swore under his breath, annoyed with himself for sleeping without intending to. He twisted about, finding Harry not terribly close by he noted with a frown, but he deemed that good enough to stop from getting anxious. 

As the plane sank beneath the clouds, Eggsy got up to grab and pull on the shirt and sweater vest again, as it was the only thing he really had to wear, and resettled down, popping the earpiece in again because why not, it was better than forgetting it.

Harry didn't stir until the plane actually touched down, the jolting from the landing effectively waking him. It took a moment for him to fully orient himself, but when he glanced over to see Eggsy he remembered everything, shifting uncomfortably. He knew he should say something, but he couldn't bring himself to, and he just turned his head to look out the window until the plane came to a complete stop. Then he rose to his feet, cleared his throat and muttered, "We should see Merlin."

Eggsy had been willing to be relaxed, to walk off this plane and behave normally (though somewhat self-consciously; he might be avoiding the 'L' word for a while), but he bit back a sigh as Harry seemed resolutely set on being awkward. They couldn't very well discuss anything if Harry wasn't keen on so much as looking at him. 

So Eggsy stood as well, hands in his pockets and slouching, and hummed as he bent a little to see the hangar through the small windows. "Following you, bruv." He still was a tag-along here, anyway.

Nodding, Harry waited for the plane doors to open, shifting his weight from one foot to another. As it seemed to be going particularly slowly, Harry had time to retrieve his glasses from where he'd set them aside earlier, replacing them on his face just as the door opened and they were allowed out. 

Just before he stepped outside he turned to face Eggsy, looking what could only be called miserable. "I apologize for... earlier. That didn't have anything to do with you."

Eggsy had been ready to step out of the plane, but Harry turned toward him, and he had planned to be nonchalant if a little guarded -- until he caught his expression. He frowned. "Are you alright?"

Was he alright? Harry didn't think so. He shook his head, opening his mouth to say as much, but was interrupted by Merlin's voice in his ear. "If you two could see fit to come to my office sometime this decade, I would appreciate it."

Sighing, Harry turned away, stepping off the plane and making towards Merlin's office.


	26. A Betrayal

Eggsy huffed out a breath in annoyance as he followed Harry. A 'no, I'm not alright' seemed rather important to him, but fine, he supposed there was time for that later. They did have the unfortunate occurrence of the forced mass murdering to talk to Merlin about, that was important too.

Merlin was waiting for them the instant they arrived, getting up out of the chair and walking briskly over to them. "You want to tell me what the hell was going through your head, Harry? That was a massacre."

Harry took an involuntary step backwards. "I... I wanted to kill them. It was like I didn't have any control."

Eggsy nodded to back him up, eyebrows pulling together in unpleasant memory as he thought on when it had happened to him, too. "It was fucking awful," he sighed, his head giving an unpleasant throb just thinking about it. "I'd've been doing the same thing if you hadn't been yelling at me. Really wasn't any choice in it." 

If Eggsy hadn't been stopped, he would have killed a lot more than four people. Four people who accounted for the weight on his conscience he was still pushing back and batting away as he didn't have the time to be worried about it right now.

Merlin rubbed at his temples, gears shifting in his head. "At least we know the signal can be blocked. But unless we figure out how to get an earpiece into every single person's head... We'll have to stop it at the source. Somehow, we have to figure out how to stop Valentine, and we don't have much time."

It didn't much seem like Merlin was talking to them as much as thinking out loud, but still, Eggsy answered him anyway. "Well, seems he's gotta be nearby to set it off, yeah? He was right fucking there at the church soon as whatever it was was done being set off. And I didn't really feel it at the car either. Might be a localized kind of thing, which could narrow it down a lot," he said, trying to be of help. Even if it was wrong or he wasn't a full agent yet, after experiencing it, he wanted even moreso to keep it from happening again. The thought of it happening to his friends or his mother or sister... Eggsy nearly shuddered. 

"He's got it in the SIM cards he's been releasing," Merlin explained. Eggsy would have missed that bit of the explanation, being too busy driving like a maniac to save Harry while Valentine was monologuing about his plan. "Anyone who has one in their phone becomes a target." 

Eggsy's eyes widened. That made sense now he could logically reason it out, but still -- holy shit. How many people in the world had those SIM cards? Valentine could send his signal to any of them, all of them. If they all went homicidal at the same time, then it would be exactly like what had happened in that church, everywhere. By the looks of it, at least a hundred people had died in a little over three minutes. And if they had no idea where the signal was coming from, three minutes was a lot less than they could get there when they found it -- if they found it. 

It was seeming incredibly hopeless, and Eggsy was starting to feel almost claustrophobic about it. Every solution he came to was easily thwarted. "...fuck me," he said eventually, shoulders slumping even more than they already were. 

For a moment, Harry was completely silent. "At least we know how to find Valentine," he sighed finally.

Eggsy looked over to him, frowning lightly. As far as he knew, they didn't know how to find Valentine, hence the whole problem of not knowing how to stop this. But then again, maybe he had missed something or wasn't privy to some information, so he remained quiet, straightening himself up.

Merlin looked over at Harry as well, brow slightly furrowed. He didn't like not knowing things, especially when other people knew them. And Harry apparently knew something.

Harry glanced between the two of them, shrugging one shoulder. "He knows who I am, and he wants me dead. It seems an easy way to draw him out." 

Oh, good. Eggsy hadn't missed anything, Harry was just being an idiot. "Or, hear me out on this, we could  _ not _ use you like bait that might get killed and use some of them intelligence agency resources to find the doomsday machine instead, yeah?" Though his tone was mildly sarcastic, he continued frowning at Harry, nearly scowling. 

Harry had  _ just _ almost died, and Eggsy was not about to let that be a possibility again any time in the near future if he could help it. Besides, with a man planning on destroying a large segment of the population, he doubted he'd come out for one man when he was clearly close to being finished.

Smirking a little, Merlin nodded over in Eggsy's direction. "I'm inclined to agree with him there, Galahad. Hopefully we have enough time to find out where Valentine is storing his broadcasting device before having to descend to such extremes. We nearly lost you on the mission today; I don't fancy the idea of sticking you back out there."

Harry gritted his teeth. They didn't  _ have _ time, that was the point. That device could be anywhere, and they didn't know how long they had before Valentine activated it and destroyed as many people as he liked. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go to talk to Arthur while you try and come up with a better plan," he muttered. With that, he began heading out of the room. 

Part of Eggsy wanted to grab Harry’s arm, hold him back and get him to actually bloody talk about how clearly not-himself he was being, understandably so, but he did nothing. Harry needed a bit of time, and if he wasn't there, he wasn't volunteering himself for near suicidal missions. 

Eggsy’s eyes followed him out of the room, and he puffed out a breath of air, grumbling to Merlin, "He always been like that?"

Merlin watched him go, turning back to Eggsy when he spoke. "No," he admitted, shaking his head. "This is the first time I've seen him this bad."

"That's not good," Eggsy sighed, rubbing at his face. His first mission at all was his first mission with Harry, and he’d apparently come out of it the worst he'd ever been. That was wonderful. But he would have to deal with that later; for now, he stayed to talk with Merlin.

Harry made his way to Arthur's office, wondering if he would even be in. He knocked on the door, waiting to see if he got a response. 

Chester was in his office, leaning back in his large chair while still thinking over the events he'd witnessed a few hours ago through the feed in Harry's glasses. He had known something like this was going to happen, that when Galahad had been sent off (and the recruit too, to his displeasure; it was too dangerous a mission to send an inexperienced recruit on, even if he wasn't fond of him, but he couldn't say anything about it at the time as it was not agency knowledge) it was likely going to result in his stumbling upon the test. 

Valentine had told him what the plan for population culling was, but it was rather unsettling to actually see, and through the eyes of an agent affected at that. It was brutal, but Chester couldn't deny its efficacy. The church of people lay dead save for Galahad in a handful of minutes. Remarkable.

Chester truly did feel bad that one of his best agents would have to be sacrificed for the good of the plan proceeding, but steps needed to be taken, and they all had their parts to play. Which was why he was quite surprised when the young recruit had made it out of the building without his notice, and managed to interrupt what should have been an execution. Chester had stopped streaming once it was apparent that they were escaping, and he got confirmation from Merlin that the Kingsman plane was in the air.

It didn't go as he had intended, nor as Valentine had thought, but he couldn't deny he was impressed. His agent had lasted longer than the whole of the civilians put together, and personally took out at least 40 of them, if not approaching 50. He also admitted to himself with some reluctance how effective the young recruit had been as well. Without him, Galahad's death would have been certain. 

The execution was stalled (which Chester couldn't be too bothered by), and some of the finer details of Valentine's plan revealed, but this close to completion, he doubted he could be stopped. Now it was just a matter of waiting for the word to his phone, perhaps throwing Merlin off the track if he got too close. As sound seemed to block the signal, maybe he could have Merlin blare noise into the ears of his agents, limit as much internal death as he could.

Except maybe to the young recruit. That would ensure the place of Lancelot going to someone entirely fitting, it would be rid of a distraction for Galahad (whom Chester did not want to lose), and if it were part of the massive burst of population culling, well, that would be rather convenient.

It was while mulling over these thoughts that he was interrupted by a knock at his door. Chester glanced up at it first and then down to his desk, making certain that nothing questionable was there. Papers regarding Bedivere's recent mission to Brazil were the only thing there alongside his phone and computer, and he picked up a fountain pen loosely in his fingers before clearing his throat and calling, "Come in."

Harry entered with a nearly overwhelming sense of hopelessness. They might have known Valentine's plan, but that didn't give them the capability to stop it, and Merlin had cut down the only outline of an idea they'd had. Sighing, he swung the door open, straightening his shoulders and wiping his face clear of emotion. He had something else to focus on at present.

Silently he walked into the room, coming to a halt a few feet from Arthur's desk and not seating himself, trying to retain some small sense of politeness, even if Arthur was the last person he wanted to defer to. "I've come with a slight inquiry about one of the tests given to the recruits," he stated.

Chester looked up as Harry entered, rather surprised past his unchanging face of neutrality. With the apparent injuries it looked as though he’d sustained, he had thought Harry would be in medical for at least another few hours and that was after the debrief with Merlin. His words were met with that same unchanging face, his hands folding themselves on top of his desk. "Galahad. I would have thought you had better things to be doing at the moment," he said rather pointedly, his head inclining slightly. "But very well. Which test would that be?" As though he didn't already have an inclination. 

It wasn't until Arthur said something that Harry realized just how torn up he was, how much his body ached and how exhausted he felt, despite getting so much sleep on the plan. But he shook himself out of those thoughts; that could all wait till later. "It has come to my attention that my protégé no longer has his dog," he stated.

"An unfortunate accident," Chester explained, his voice cool and level as ever. "As can happen with small animals and firearms. But he passed, and the situation was dealt with." Dealt with by cleaning up the blood and throwing the furry thing in a hole in the ground.

"Firearms that are filled with blanks don't tend to cause as many accidents," Harry pointed out, doing his best to keep calm in the face of Arthur's cavalier attitude about the whole affair.

"In the hands of a recruit that has not been fully trained, even blanks can be dangerous." He had known Harry for nearly 25 years now, certainly enough time to know when he was truly calm and when he was suppressing, and now was a perfect example of the latter. Though why Harry was so upset about this matter, he was unclear. Perhaps he was just using this as an excuse to vent other frustrations. 

"Have a seat, Galahad," he said, nodding to one of the two empty chairs in front of his desk with a slight nod of his head. He didn't want to discuss the dog matter any further. They had more important things to deal with.

Unsure as to his king's intentions, Harry slid into the indicated seat, wincing slightly at the twinge in his back. He really should make it a point to get to medical, he thought, fixing his gaze on Arthur.

Chester kept his eyes on him as he settled, sorry to see he was correct in his estimation. "I was watching your mission via the stream to my computer," he started, assuming he knew this already. "It must have been rather traumatic for you. But now we know what to expect for the next attack," he said reasonably, turning briefly to grab for a tumbler to pour himself some water. "Though with the extent of the damage, we will likely keep you out of the fray during the next outbreak. We can't afford to lose another seasoned agent so quickly." He took a small drink.

"The next outbreak," Harry repeated flatly, wondering if his exhaustion had caught up with him after all and he was hearing things. If all went well, there shouldn't  _ be _ another outbreak, and yet Arthur was saying it as if it were a fact.

Chester did not reply, simply studied him across the desk. He did not want to cover up what he knew with a blasé comment on how logically there would be another -- it was happening very soon, he was sure of it, and it was so important, he wanted his knights to know, to be together on it. "The next outbreak," he repeated, steepling his fingers together. "I want you in the underground bunker on site."

Harry leaned forwards slightly, eyes narrowed. "If I'm not mistaken, we should be trying to prevent the downfall of humanity, not hiding away when it happens," he stated coldly. He didn't know if he quite believed what he was hearing; surely the head of the organization built to protect the world was not signing it over to the incapable hands of Valentine. 

Chester met the cold tone and glare with a neutral face, an expert at hiding his emotions and thoughts from showing on his face by now. "With no leads, it seems unlikely he will be stopped before the next occurrence." Another beat passed, and he continued. Surely Harry was picking up on it by now. "I assume you  _ did _ read the research performed by Professor Arnold in regards to Gaia Theory."

"Of course I did," Harry said. He wasn't one to go into a mission unprepared, and his little visit with the professor had been predated by a thorough acquaintance with his work. "But the last person to suggest mass genocide as a solution was rightfully stopped. As Valentine must be." 

"The trouble in that lies in thinking too small and too selfishly. Genocide is to advance personal biases and prejudices. Choosing not to save the planet ensures the eventual complete downfall of the human race." With the bonus of Chester and his team getting to survive to the new, more sustainable world. 

The day had been emotionally draining enough already, and discovering Chester's apparent plan to let everything go to shit was rubbing at what little composure Harry had left. "You can't seriously be suggesting we all lock ourselves away and let the majority of humanity wipe itself out," he hissed through gritted teeth. 

Chester raised his eyebrows at the lack of restraint he was showing, so openly hostile to the plan to save the world and also his agents. Surprising. "I am suggesting the safety of my agents, yes. We will go to the safety of the bunker until it subsides. You are not to leave medical until that time."

"With respect, Arthur," Harry gritted out, sounding not the least bit respectful, "Kingsman was never about  _ safety. _ " He stood, the chair shoved roughly backwards. "And I'm certain there are quite a few of our agents who will take exception to this little scheme."

Chester's eyes narrowed slightly at the far from respectful display. His voice hardened, less conversational, more authoritative. His hands tightened; he may be old and he may not have full range of motion, but he was still a fully trained and very experienced spy. "That was not a request, Galahad. Insubordination or not, it will be my order that all active agents within range perform a full retreat. Anyone who disobeys will be blacklisted and treated as rogue, and should they survive, they will be taken down. Valentine's vision of a new world is coming, and Kingsman will stand in support. That is my final word on the matter, whether I have your approval or not."

Harry blinked, a bit taken aback by the blatant confession that Arthur,  _ their Arthur, _ was fully on Valentine's side, firmly committed to following through with the insane plan. "Taken down? By whom? What agents do you think you'll have left? They've dedicated their lives to keeping people safe, as have you, need I remind you."

"It is keeping people safe. Denying this is dooming the future. Our future." Chester’s eyes hardened still, rather disappointed in how much one of his best agents was fighting him on this. He might have to be knocked out with a dart from his watch. "If the population does not come under control, the planet will die, as will all of us, slowly, and painfully. The means may not be pretty," he said, his eyes flicking up to the grazed bullet wound that had produced a good amount of dried blood on Harry's face. "But our means never have been. It is the nature of our work to make the difficult decisions, and it is far past time for you to realize that."

Betrayal rose like a bitter tide in Harry's chest, making it that much harder to breathe. Arthur had abandoned all reason. He had to be stopped, or he was going to consign them all to becoming mass murderers. The church had been only the tip of the iceberg, and it was going to haunt him for the rest of his life, that much was certain. He couldn't consign the rest of the world to that. 

According to Arthur, Harry was already going to be labelled as a rogue agent; might as well go all the way. Throat dry, his blood roared in his ears he walked around the desk with measured steps. As soon as he was close enough, he lunged, hands wrapping around Arthur's neck. He couldn't be allowed to send them into this. 

When Harry started approaching the desk, Chester's eyes narrowed, his fingers already inching over to his watch to prime the knock-out dart. He didn't get the chance to use it, because suddenly hands were grasping his throat, quickly restricting his air. He choked, fingers blindly slipping on the watch to fire a dart which shot off an inch too far to the right. Shit.

Even while his air was being restricted, Chester’s mind was working lightning fast, counting up probabilities and ways of possible escape. It wasn't looking good, honestly, not when he couldn't reach his weaponry or his means of calling in anyone; his glasses lay useless on the table. His own brand of cold betrayal was running through him, and he knew that this discussion had turned to kill or be killed. 

Chester’s hands stretched out, clawing at Harry’s face to aggravate the already angry bullet wound. It was the first and most obvious thing, anything to slacken his grip somewhat so he could start prying Harry’ hands away from his neck. Quickly, his mind was replaying the footage he had seen, trying to remember where he’d gotten hit, what other injuries or weaknesses he could exploit. 

Fingers scrabbled at Harry’s head, nails catching at the still raw furrow the bullet had left behind. He grunted in pain, grip loosening momentarily, the urge to cover it with his hand rising up briefly before he stamped it down, renewing his efforts. He leaned his whole weight into the choke hold, the position he was in making that particularly easy to do.

Chester was really struggling to get air now, his head feeling light and tingling sensations in his extremities -- he was dying. Anger, adrenaline, and a very strong will to not die spurred him to keep moving, continue fighting, and as Harry bent over him, he reached around him to start digging his knuckles hard into his back, searching for the spot he knew for a fact Harry had been stabbed in. A last ditch effort on his part, because as the popping lights and darkness in his vision reminded him, he was running out of time, and fast.

Harry hardly even noticed the hands grasping at his back until one rubbed over his stab wound, a lance of pain instantly shooting through him. Cursing, he jerked away on instinct, grip on Arthur's throat tugging him to the side as well. The unaccounted for weight unbalanced Harry, didn't let him retain his hold, and sent Arthur falling away from him.

Gasping for breath and cursing that he didn't have his weaponry on him, Chester got to his feet as quickly as he could through the blackness in his vision and the lightness in his head. If he got to the phone to hit the emergency button, he would only be buying himself a little bit of time, and not nearly enough to keep Harry from attacking him again. He had one window before he would be attacked again. Going for his watch again, he primed the knock out dart, shooting it intuitively and as best he could through the receding blackness.

The only thing that saved Harry was his exhaustion. Had he been in his prime, he would have recovered and been at Arthur by the time he fired off his watch. As it was, however, he was having a rather hard time of getting off his knees. The dart flew by over his head, and he instinctively ducked, nearly pitching forwards. He just wanted this all to be over. Summoning the last dregs of his energy, he propelled himself towards his former king, wrapping his arms around his legs and pulling.

Chester only realized his dart had missed when it was too late. The very last thing that flooded his mind was surprise and pure panic, when the weight of his now-rogue agent was toppling his already precariously balanced body downwards. Unluckily for him, he had been standing, and so as he fell, his head slammed hard against the corner of the desk drawer that had been slightly opened, the point ramming into and splitting the back of his skull. Blood immediately began gushing out of his head, splattering on the ground before he landed in it fully, his body falling limp as he hit the carpeting.

He didn't move.

Breath heaving in his chest, Harry realized that Arthur wasn't moving. He'd heard a sort of sickening thunk followed by a soft thud, but his face had been buried in the backs of his knees and he didn't know quite what had happened. 

Slowly, Harry raised his head, noting the pool of blood first and the absolute stillness of the form beneath him second. Not entirely sure this wasn't some sort of trick, he levered himself to his feet, casting a wary eye at the form. When it remained still, he tapped the side of his glasses, activating the comms.

"Merlin, I... you're needed in Arthur's office."

Merlin had been engaged in conversation with Eggsy, but he threw his hand up to halt him when he heard the voice in his ear. "Harry? What's going on?" he asked, voice thick with concern. He sounded ragged, even more so than he had when he'd headed off to the office in the first place. 

When only silence met his question, Merlin stood, jerking his head to indicate Eggsy should follow him before making his way to Arthur's office.

Oddly, discussing the possibilities of moving forward was a welcome respite from the fear and uncertainty regarding the whole incident. But that was interrupted with a raise of Merlin's hand, and it sounded like Harry needed Merlin to come for... some reason. Worry rose in Eggsy again, and he followed behind him on their way to the office. He would have done so even if he hadn't been beckoned.

Harry didn't move far from where he was, staring down at Arthur's dead body (most assuredly dead now, he hadn't moved an inch) in a sort of empty horror. He'd done this. He'd killed him, his king. Arthur might have been a traitor, but that guaranteed nothing, least of all Harry’s continued position as a Kingsman.

At the pace Merlin set, it didn't take them long to reach the office. He pushed through the doorway, not knowing what he expected to see, but certainly knowing it wasn't what he encountered. 

Eggsy wasn't far behind, entering the room and looking for Harry, concerned something seriously bad had happened to him. And as soon as he got a look around, he found his concern was well needed but misdirected. Arthur lay apparently dead on the floor, his blood seeping into the carpet. 

Eggsy stopped just inside, looking at the body in a stunned silence, eyebrows raised and lips parted. What the hell happened? 

"What the hell happened?" Merlin asked, his thoughts running along the same track as Eggsy's. It was hard to believe Harry would kill Arthur, but the whole thing looked pretty damning.

Harry glanced up at them when he spoke, having just noticed they were there. "I killed him," he said quietly. "He was a traitor, so I killed him."

Despite himself and his wishes, a slight trickle of fear slowly ran through Eggsy as he looked from Arthur’s dead body to Harry's still bloodied face. He wasn't in the room when it happened; he had no idea if there was something that went wrong, a residual signal mishap, some sort of trigger, Harry's exhaustion mentally and physically manifesting itself violently, he had no idea. 'He was a traitor,' what did that even mean? Harry had said himself he wasn't alright, how 'not alright' was he?

"...Harry?" Eggsy took a few steps toward him, wanting to be proven wrong, that Harry did this because Arthur was going to kill himself or others. That had to be it.

Harry's head turned toward Eggsy when he heard his name, and a jolt of surprise ran through him, shocking him back to his senses somewhat. Eggsy had never looked at him like he was afraid before.

His eyes flicked from his husband back to Arthur's dead body and on to Merlin. "He said we were going to hide," he wearily explained, kneeling beside the corpse. "His agents would go to a secret bunker and wait for it all to be over. He thought it was humanity's best hope of survival." There was a sort of scorn in his tone as he wiped blood away from Arthur's neck just below his ear. 

A scar that matched the one on Valentine's assistant came into view, and Merlin sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Eggsy stopped moving halfway between the door and where Harry knelt, his eyes squinting as he looked at his one-time boss's body. That at least made sense. He could see Harry being less than pleased with that, particularly directly after experiencing what Valentine's plan was actually like first hand. "Shit," he sighed, heart sinking in his chest. He hated that man. Chester had made him kill his dog, and he planned to hide away while the world went to shit. Honestly, he was glad he was dead.

Merlin walked over to the body as well, peering closely at the scar. He got up to retrieve a letter opener from the desk beside him, pausing to look at Harry before he cut him open. "You're bleeding," he pointed out.

Harry raised his fingers to the bullet wound, feeling a stripe of wetness before realizing Merlin was looking at his shoulder. Twisting his head around, he noticed a dark patch of blood slowly seeping into his shirt. Humming his acknowledgement, he levered himself back to his feet. 

Slowly, Eggsy moved closer to get a look for himself at what he could already imagine was the implant scar on his neck. He moved to stand by Harry, not reaching out to touch him or invade his space much, his eyes narrowed and focused solely on Merlin's actions as he cut into Arthur's neck. "Next stop for you is medical," he sighed, glancing up at Harry with a small frown before looking back as Merlin slowly pulled out a tiny chip attached to a long wire. He wrinkled his nose at it.

Harry didn't move away as Eggsy came up to him, but he didn't make any move to drift closer to him either. 

As Merlin dug the chip out of Arthur’s head he backed away, making for medical. Eggsy was right; he probably should get there sooner rather than later. 

Eggsy watched him go, having every intention to go follow him if no other reason than to be near him, to stick close and try and ask him again if he was okay or what he could do to help him as with Merlin he was just talking in circles. But just as he started to move away, a sudden light and movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. 

The abandoned phone was lighting up with a red and pink V, and Eggsy frowned, picking it up off the desk. "Merlin," he said as his eyes raked over the screen, something sinking in the pit of his stomach. "Think I found where Valentine is."

Only just out the door when Eggsy spoke, Harry paused. He turned right back around, reappearing in the doorway silently and looking over to where Eggsy was staring at the phone screen.

Merlin glanced up from his examination of the implant, rising to stand beside Eggsy and get a look as well. "How generous of him, to provide us with his exact coordinates," he said dryly. "It appears we don't have much time for planning. The three of us," and here he looked up to include Harry in his statement, "are the only ones we can trust; we don't know who else, if anyone, he's brought in on this."  

At 'three of us,' Eggsy looked up, over to the doorway to find Harry still there. He frowned; the last thing he wanted was this escalating so quickly Harry didn't have time to get the medical attention he clearly needed. "Right," he agreed nonetheless, pulling his phone out to type in the coordinates and even begin to estimate where the hell that was. 

Harry nodded wearily as Merlin stood, chip still in hand.

"Come on, Eggsy," the technician said, heading over for Harry. "We'll plug those in once we get to the plane." They didn't have long according to the countdown, and if they ran into trouble, it could very well mean the end of things.

Eggsy frowned, stowing his phone away. He had only been checking to see generally what country it was even to get an estimate of how long they would inevitably be flying, but maybe he was getting ahead of himself. 

"Wait," Eggsy sad slowly as he followed along after them, more than happy to get away from Arthur's dead body. "What about Rox? She's still around here, isn't she? Shouldn't we grab her if we're flying off somewhere to do who knows what?" 

That gave Merlin pause, and he narrowed his eyes in thought. "Good thinking, Eggsy. Go find her; I'll get Harry to the plane." He glanced over at Harry who was looking slightly paler than he had been before, blood still spreading through his shirt. "I'll try and patch him up a bit." 

"We'll meet you there," Eggsy agreed, hovering by Harry briefly, wanting to do something, say something, but they were pressed for time, and Harry wasn't looking good, not to mention the weird wall between them he was feeling ever since the awkwardness in the plane. So he continued on his way, figuring he would start at the old barracks and pray Roxy was there.

Harry trailed after Merlin to the plane, steps turning more into stumbles the further they walked. By the time they'd actually gotten back to the hangar, he was practically leaning on his friend, using him as a sort of support.

Merlin didn't much like the look on Harry’s face. He'd been losing blood fairly steadily all day, not to mention pushing himself to his physical limits. And they didn't have time to rest, not with the timer on Arthur's phone constantly ticking down to the second when everything everywhere would go tits up. 

Eventually, however, they made it on. Merlin sat Harry down and wasted no time fishing out the emergency medical kit standard in all Kingsman vehicles. When he went to patch Harry up, he was silent, the biggest indicator to Merlin that he really wasn't well. Normally there would have been some fight, some 'I can do it myself' bravado but now... there was just nothing.

He'd just finished securing a bandage to Harry’s shoulder when Eggsy and Roxy arrived. Leaving Harry to their care, he took his place as pilot, punching in the coordinates and setting it to autopilot long enough to explain his plan. 

Roxy didn't look too thrilled with the idea of being sent to the edge of the atmosphere, but she accepted the task nonetheless. Soon enough, he was landing the plane in the snow-laden mountains, hooking her in and sending her up with Eggsy's parting words ringing in her ears.

Then they were back at it, headed straight for Valentine's underground bunker. 


	27. A Bunker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> had a lot going lately hence late update

Unlike the last time Eggsy been sent off in this plane -- weird to think how it had only been a whirlwind of hours ago -- this time he was not excited. This time, there was nothing but anxiety and dread in him. 

Everything rode on this particular mission going well, and they had almost nothing to go on. They knew they were headed to Valentine, where they needed to stop the signal from being released. They knew they had a congruent back up plan of destroying the satellites to buy time if they needed it. They knew for a fact that every second they didn't succeed once it started, innocent lives would be lost. But that was all. They were going in mostly blind, and Harry had never looked worse. 

Eggsy felt guilt on top of his unhappiness about the whole ordeal, unable to really shake the feeling that somehow he was letting Harry down, not doing something he should be to help him.

He just sat himself close to Harry, a gentle hand on his knee as soon as he sat himself down back from bidding Roxy good luck, angled to face Merlin once the plane was back up in the air and he returned to them. "Alright, what am I doing then?" he asked when he reemerged, as obviously Harry wasn't going to be the one to go in. He'd already kept him from being killed by Valentine once in the last 24 hours, he was in no shape to go against him a second time. He'd have to go alone.

Merlin passed Arthur's phone over to Eggsy with a pointed look. "We only have one invitation, and it's not for any of us. You'll have to be Arthur. Get me into Valentine's system and I'll take him down from inside, understood? Roxy will be taking down the satellite, which will buy us quite a bit of time, but it's still vital you get in and out as quickly as possible."

Only then did Harry really seem to register what was going on for the first time in hours. He sat up, glaring over at Merlin. "You're not seriously suggesting we send Eggsy in on his own," he snapped. 

"I'm supposed to be Arthur," Eggsy said, wrinkling his nose as he took the phone. Still, thank goodness they didn't seem to have a photo ID system, looked like all he needed to do was present the phone with the correct name and he was in. That much he could do. In, plug in the Kingsman uplink to a computer source, out. He was about ready to get up and go get changed into his new actual Kingsman suit that was waiting for him in the wash room, when Harry finally spoke, almost startling him.

"Who else is supposed to go in? I'll have contact with you, yeah," he said, looking up at Merlin. "Just like anyone else would."

Shaking his head adamantly, Harry made a pass for the phone. "Me, Eggsy. The actual Kingsman agent who, might I add, is far more suited to play Arthur."

Eggsy made a face, keeping the phone away from him. "Harry, you're injured. You've been fucking catatonic the past two hours. It's an in and out, I've done training, I think I can handle it."

Even as Eggsy made the point, Harry's shoulder twinged and his arm fell back to his side with a frustrated huff. "Nothing is ever a simple in and out," he muttered, looking away sullenly.

"Then wish me luck," Eggsy said as he got up, barely sparing a glance to Merlin as if waiting to be contradicted before he made his way back to the washroom to get himself changed.

Merlin looked sternly over at Harry, meeting his steady glare. "He knows what he's doing, Harry. He was on track to becoming an agent before all this; he's just as much call to do this as you."

Gritting his teeth, Harry dug his fingers into the armrest of the chair. "Valentine is the worst, most viable threat we've faced in years, and you're sending him in there  _ alone _ ," he hissed.

Eggsy locked himself in the bathroom and rubbed at his face a few times. He was telling himself Harry's snapping and assertion that he was unqualified to do this was based out of a protective love, a want to keep him from almost being killed (or actually killed) for a second time, but it was hard to believe that in the moment. It sounded far more like Harry was dismissing him as incapable, that he had expected him to sit idly by in the plane while a seriously injured Harry was the one sent in when he had narrowly escaped death by Valentine's hand once that day. 

Rubbing his head with his palms, Eggsy began stripping himself. He allowed himself to feel offended, but made it pass by after he acknowledged it. He held on to the fact that if nothing else was true, he knew he loved Harry, which made it easier to be certain that he would get this job done and get him home so they could start to fix him up. He could do this. He wasn't going to die, and he wasn't going to let Harry die.

Eggsy changed into the suit they'd had commissioned not long ago, (he was actually surprised to note he had the same tie as Harry; maybe they hadn’t been sure what to give him), and slid on the watch, oxfords, signet ring, and looked himself in the eye as he got to put on the real Kingsman glasses. Despite himself, he smiled faintly. He really did look like the real deal now. Suit, glasses on, hair styled, he could easily blend in with the group of people Valentine would have selected. He was also surprised at just how easy it was to stand completely upright; it was like the act of putting on the suit did all the work.

Fixing one of his sleeves, he deigned himself ready. Leaving his old clothing inside, he stepped out of the washroom, finding it hard not to look at least a little pleased with himself, wearing it.

Both Harry and Merlin turned to look at Eggsy as he stepped out, dressed to the nines in the Kingsman issued attire. 

"Looking good, Eggsy," Merlin complimented him, giving him a nod of approval before standing and heading back into the cockpit. It wasn't long until they landed and there was only so much autopilot could do.

When he'd disappeared, Harry moved over to Eggsy, looking slightly pained. He didn't touch him, not wanting to muss his carefully styled appearance, forcing his hands to stay at his side. "I suppose there isn't much use in telling you to be careful," he sighed. 

Eggsy stood a little straighter at Merlin’ praise, smiling a bit more. But his shoulders fell when Harry moved over to him, looking at him a little more seriously. "I'd just promise I would be," he agreed, his head tilting slightly. "In, find an uplink, out. Won't even know I'm gone, bruv," he said, the corner of his lips twitching up lightly. 

Harry very much doubted that, and he stood for a moment just staring at Eggsy, running his eyes over his face before he went to sit back down. 

The plane was slowly beginning its descent; Merlin must have gotten the all-clear for the landing.

Merlin had, in fact, been cleared, and he taxied the plane into the side of a mountain, gaze hardening at the sight of the anti-aircraft missiles. Those could be problematic later on.

Eggsy remained standing for the rest of the flight, a hand on the walls of the plane to keep himself steady as they descended and taxied along the small runway which looked to be inside of the mountain they had approached, from what Eggsy could make out through the windows. 

Carefully, Eggsy approached the cockpit to look out and see, noting the '65+ armed enemies' on the screens as well as the anti-aircraft missiles. "Fuck me," he sighed, turning back to the body of the plane again. They were landing. It was time to get mentally ready.

From what Harry could see, he definitely wasn't thrilled about letting Eggsy go off on his own. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was very much injured and very much exhausted. Eggsy would do far better than him at the moment, inexperienced as he was.

Merlin brought the plane to a halt, heading back into the body of the plane before opening the doors. "Are you ready?" he asked Eggsy.

"As I can be," he said with a light smirking smile, his back straightening again. He stood at the door which would open up and turn to steps, touching Arthur's phone in his pocket. He felt a little weird, a little naked going in without weaponry, especially knowing how many armed guards there were, but as Merlin had said, that would be the only way to get through security, and it shouldn't come to that anyway…

"You have the ring, the watch, and your shoes," Merlin reminded him, knowing how nerve-wracking first solo missions could be. "All of that will make it past their scan." Then he lowered the door, letting it unfold into steps, giving Eggsy a nod as Harry shrank back out of sight. 

As soon as the door started to lower, Eggsy was on. Thanking all the practice he had blending in, he put on a sufficiently polite yet disaffected face as he fiddled with one of his sleeves. The stairs dropped and he descended, one hand on the railing, toward the woman standing with two armed guards beside them.

"Chester King," he said by way of introduction, voice crisp and confident, handing over the phone with the invitation. He had no idea what she was looking for as she took it from him and examined it, but whatever it was, she seemed to find it.

"Mr. King, welcome," she said with a tight smile, and held up a wand of some sort. "I'm sure you've adhered to Mr. Valentine's strict no-weapons policy, but if you don't mind?"

"Of course." Eggsy lifted his arms helpfully, allowing her to run the wand over his front, trusting Merlin was right and they wouldn't pick up on any of the gadgets he had on him.

"And do you have any luggage?"

For a split second, he paused. He easily could have said 'no,' could have blandly walked in, but he wanted to make sure they would be staying away from the plane, let Merlin stay with it and keep them from poking about. And besides that, posh Eggsy would be a snarky bastard. 

"Congratulations, Mycroft," he said, turning to look at Merlin with raised eyebrows and a small, indulging smile as the woman waved the wand over his back. "You've just graduated from my pilot, to my valet. Good?" His eye twitched in a subtle wink, telling him 'I got this.'

Merlin's eyebrows arched somewhat, rather surprised at being included in the conversation until he discovered the context for said inclusion. "Cheeky," he muttered, but he just gave him a polite nod, accepting the role he'd been given. 

"This way please," the woman said, and clearly Eggsy had passed again, because she started leading him through the doorway behind her. He followed after, his walk mimicking that of just about any Kingsman agent he'd met, very controlled.

When Eggsy was walking away with the woman, Merlin retreated back into the plane, pulling up both Eggsy's and Roxy's mission feeds and placing them on the screen. He relayed Roxy's instructions to her once more to make certain she had them then. As there was nothing urgent happening to either of them, Merlin turned to examining the chip. "The implant is what allowed Valentine to superheat the tissue," he muttered a few moments later, brow furrowed.

Harry glanced over at him, looking away from Eggsy's feed for a brief second. "Is that useful to us?"

After a slight pause, Merlin shook his head. "No." 

-

Walking down the hallway the woman was leading Eggsy through was slightly disconcerting, his head turning and glancing at the large metal doors that seemed to be banging. Well, now they knew where all the kidnap victims were.

The woman showed him to the entrance to a large party, excusing herself and disappearing into the throng of people.

"Would sir care for a drink?" A man appeared beside Eggsy, looking expectant.

Again, Eggsy hesitated for a moment, but in the interest of blending in, he spoke. "Martini. Gin, not vodka, obviously. Stirred for ten seconds while glancing at an  _ unopened _ bottle of vermouth."

The man bowed his head, and Eggsy hovered by the entrance to wait for it as he looked around conspicuously for where he could find some sort of uplink. The most logical thing would be a computer of some kind, and someone must have one. 

When he got his drink, he sipped it and started to weave through the people milling about, keeping his eyes out for a computer with an occasional up at the large, elaborate glass panes that must be where Valentine was cooped up.

Merlin rattled off Roxy's altitude, watching her slowly ascend into space and drift into position. They still had some time, but it was rapidly running out, and Eggsy still had to hack past Valentine's security. "Eggsy, get me online."

Just as Merlin spoke, Eggsy's eyes fell on the dull glow of an open laptop the floor above him. "On it," he said into his drink, ascending the steps quickly but discreetly.

He approached the man slowly, conversationally. "Society is dead, long live society," he said lifting his drink in almost a toast, smiling in that acted, posh way.

"Amen to that." He took the bait and offered his hand in a handshake.

After ascertaining that there was only pre-authorized connections available, Eggsy had no choice in the matter, not like he had any qualms with it to begin with. After asking the man for the time as an excuse to touch his watch without suspicion, he shot a knock out dart into his neck, knocking him right out. Carelessly, Eggsy pushed him aside and climbed into the booth, plugging the uplink into a USB port.

Once Eggsy was plugged in, Merlin began digging his way into the system, bypassing most of the security measures easily. "Nice job, Eggsy, now get back to the plan."

Harry didn't allow himself to heave a sigh of relief just yet. Eggsy was, after all, not back with them. 

Just as Eggsy was getting ready to close up the laptop, he felt a sharp, cold weight press against his neck. His mouth opened in shock, hands lifting in surrender. Turning slowly, he recognized just who it was threatening him with a knife. "The fuck are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Well, my family were invited.  _ Obviously, _ " Charlie smirked humourlessly, pressing the knife more threateningly into his neck. "Now get the fuck up."

Angry but trying to keep from sudden movements or drawing attention to himself, Eggsy stood slowly, keeping his hands up by his head, praying for a few moments’ time to get out of this. Until of course-

"Hey, Valentine! I've caught a fucking spy!"

Fuck.

The instant Valentine turned around to get a look at him, Eggsy sprung into action, fucking discretion and activating the volts in the ring and electrocuting Charlie right in his pencil neck. As Charlie vibrated, his hands fell with the knife, and Eggsy pulled his fist back to punch him right in the face for good measure, knocking him flat on his back.

He had to get back to the plane, and now. He vaulted over the railing and landed on the floor below, picking himself up and throwing himself down the hall from where he had entered, the people parting in surprise to let him through. 

Merlin was focused more on Roxy when everything went to shit on Eggsy's end. She was almost to the altitude she needed to be at to fire the missile when one of her balloons burst. He could hear the panic in her voice as she assured him she nearly had it. He barely had time for relief when she actually fired the missile, given the situation with Eggsy.

Harry's eyes were glued to the screen, fingers gripping the edge of Merlin's command center. 

Eggsy hurtled down the labyrinth of hallways all lined with the ceaseless lines of metal doors, skidding around corners low to the ground as soon as he heard shots being fired. Without a proper weapon of his own, he needed to get one fast, and that along with escape was the only thing running through his mind.

The first armed guard coming his way was, thankfully, alone. It took a little maneuvering, but Eggsy avoided the shot and knocked him down, snatching up his gun for himself. At Merlin's direction, he ran down a hall, his new gun -- a nice one, had to be a good clip size -- drawn and ready.

Gymnastics turned out to be a very helpful skill, as he took to lithely maneuvering around guards, taking them down and arching his back to shoot with his weight fully on his head and feet. In other spots it was handy to dodge, to pull and use momentum to turn a guard into a human shield for a split second, his command over his body fluid and quick to react.

His skills in free running came in handy as well, as he used the narrow passageways and metal supports to his advantage, leaping over guards and shooting through others.

Roxy was hurtling towards earth and Eggsy was scrambling through hallways, dodging shots left and right. Merlin's fingers flew as he hacked past Valentine's security... until a handprint came up, wanting biological confirmation. Groaning, he fought the urge to pick something up and throw it. "No, no, there's no way I can hack past that," he gritted out. That, however, became a lesser priority as he turned to guiding Eggsy through the hallways.

Harry watched from beside him, tension clear in every line of his body as he watched guard after guard fall in front of Eggsy.

Soon, Eggsy was nearly out of breath, rounding the corner to the hangar where the Kingsman plane was waiting. The two guards at the end of the runway would block his way, and he fired his gun at them -- only to find himself out of bullets and out of options. 

"Merlin," Eggsy called loudly when he saw him at the entrance to the plane, in a moment of desperation, drawing the guards’ attention without a plan as to why.

As Eggsy drew closer, Merlin half-emerged from the plane, body angled to hide the weapon he was holding. "What's going on?" he asked, adopting a tone of confusion as more gunshots rang out.

The two guards that had turned to face him exchanged a look, but said nothing.

"Come on, I'm just a pilot," he pushed innocently. That was the exact second Eggsy skidded around the corner, calling his name and uselessly firing off an empty gun. When both guards spun to look, he planted bullets in their backs, stepping aside to let Eggsy back on the plane.

Eggsy ran up the stairs and back into the plane, panting with his heart hammering. He immediately sank into one of the armchairs, spread out in the aftermath of his exertion, looking up at Harry until he heard Merlin reenter behind him. "Let's get the  _ fuck _ outta here," he sighed, convinced they just needed to floor it and they would be safe in minutes. He'd done his job, now they needed to get out before it got worse.

Merlin shook his head. "Valentine's got a biological system in place. We have to make sure his hand never touches that weapon."

Eggsy's melting into his chair paused, his eyebrows pulling together in a mix of frustration and disbelief. "Are you taking the fucking piss?" He'd just cut people down  _ through _ all that, and now he had to go back and stop him at the end of the waves of armed guards and herd of people? Un-fucking-believable.

Harry moved for the first time since Eggsy had reboarded the plane. "I'll go," he offered. "I've had a chance to rest."

Eggsy's head whipped around from Merlin to Harry, blinking at him once. "You ain't going anywhere," he said, looking at Harry with the same frustration as Merlin. "Unless it's to show me where I can get some more guns and clips before  _ I _ go back in there."

Merlin took over that point, leading Eggsy to the back of the plane and sliding open a hidden panel to reveal an entire arsenal of weaponry.

Harry glared at the back of their heads, half tempted to just strike out right then and there. But he was unarmed, unprepared and, despite having done nothing other than sit for the past few hours, still feeling like he could pass out at any second. 

Eggsy grabbed a pistol and stowed it in the holster just inside his suit coat, pocketed a lighter grenade because he could certainly find a use for one, and took the Rainmaker, the shield he hadn't gotten to use for himself just yet. He stepped out of the small room and walked over to Harry before he made to exit the plane. The clock was ticking and he didn't have time to waste in apologies or goodbyes, so he paused only for a second, leaning up to press a short but insistent kiss to his lips.

Then he was at the entrance to the plane again, Merlin's, “We can't let his hand touch that desk,” ringing in his ears.

Harry wanted to curl his fingers in the lapels of Eggsy's suit jacket and  _ make _ him stay, but the world was depending on this, and he couldn't be so selfish. So he let him go with a sigh, eyes tracking his form as he headed back into the labyrinthine corridors.

Merlin slid back into his seat at his control center, checking on Roxy to make sure she had landed safely (she had) before warning Eggsy about the surprise Valentine had waiting for him and urging him to get a move on. 

Of course there was a “surprise” waiting. Eggsy ran, shooting down armed men when he had to, but mostly focusing on Merlin's directions on how to get back to that room with Valentine holed up inside.

He rounded a corner to find said surprise: at least a dozen armed men with guns pointed at him. Thanking his decision to grab the Rainmaker, Eggsy opened it up and shielded himself, twisting the handle as he shot out knock-out pellets. He advanced, thinking this would be slow going but doable, when they parted to allow a man to walk through with a larger gun. Eggsy did a double take, just in time to move slightly as the sniping rifle was shot and tore a hole right through the protective shield he was hiding behind.

That wasn't good. Eggsy fired off another stunning pellet but the large man just fired back, tearing another hole, this time closer to his head. Acting on instinct and without even thinking through actual thoughts to justify why he was doing it, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the lighter grenade. Activating it, he huddled behind what was left of the umbrella as he tossed it up and into the midst of them. The grenade went off, bodies smacking against metal and flesh, and Eggsy looked up, finding the way now clear.

The Rainmaker was useless now, so he left it behind as he ran off again, making a sharp turn and keeping his gun in hand, not even giving himself the time to pat himself on the back for that one.

The time they should have had was gone. Merlin's gaze turned to the screen where he could see Valentine inserting another satellite into his broken chain. "Eggsy, he's using someone else's satellite to reestablish the link. It’s going to take him no time at all. It's at 30%."

"Fuck," Eggsy hissed to himself, pushing himself to go faster. He tried to turn down a hallway, but covered his face with his arm as soon as he saw the guards there waiting for him. He ran down a different hall, running into a large group of them heading his way after he'd made it halfway through. Turning around to go back the way he'd come, he found another wall of guards coming toward him from the opposite direction.

"Shit--" he swore under his breath, flattening himself against one of the alcoves made by the metal doors, shielding himself from the bullets that began to fly. He looked from side to side, panic starting to rise. "They're coming at me from both sides, I'm out of options," he murmured, mentally going through any possible thing he could do to get out of this, but he didn't see a way without it ending in him being shot to death.

"Merlin, I'm fucked." His voice cracked on the last word, and Eggsy flattened himself further, panting, trying to ignore the painful beating in his chest.

Merlin watched with horror as Eggsy basically became a rat trapped in a maze, closed in on both sides with little hope of escape. Even if Eggsy had had ammo left, which he didn't, there was no way he could shoot his way out of this. To make matters worse, there were anti-aircraft missiles being leveled into place outside the plane. None of them, it seemed, were going to make it out of this alive.

The only thing Harry felt was empty. Eggsy had been taken from him once already that day, and now it was going to happen again, after he'd gotten him back. He was going to watch it happen. "Merlin," he said, blinking slowly. "Remember those implants you said were useless to us?"

Not entirely sure whether Harry was completely of sound mind, Merlin nodded.

"Any chance you could activate them?"

And then Merlin knew exactly what Harry was going for. With a renewed sense of determination, his fingers flew across the keyboard until he was asked to confirm activation. "Yes, please." He slammed his finger on the button. 

Eggsy could hear footsteps approaching, the opposing forces encroaching bit by bit into the small bit of safety he had left. He was going to fail, he was going to die, Valentine was going to win, and all he could think about was his sister, his mother, Harry, all of them dying because he couldn't get this simple thing accomplished. "...Harry--" Hh started, not entirely sure what he meant to say to him, his eyes squeezing shut.

Then he heard the stillness, the shaking of weaponry as the shots stopped, and he blinked, knowing something was happening. He cautiously leaned forward, frowning as he watched -- the back row of the attackers’ heads explode in clouds of purple and blue smoke. 

Row after row exploded, one after the other, his assailants falling down dead, headless and in the midst of clouds of coloured smoke, until none were left. Eggsy was amazed, frankly, that his mind and body could handle more surges of emotions, but he was filled with sudden joy. If the chips all exploded, they must have done it, he was alive, his family was alive, and they had won.

It worked wonderfully, nearly every one of their enemies' heads bursting into fireworks of color. The immediate threat was gone, and Merlin couldn't hold back an, "Oh, that is fucking spectacular!" as things seemed to die down. 

"You guys are  **_fucking_ ** geniuses!" Eggsy shouted excitedly, pumping his fist, though his celebration was suddenly cut off by the banging behind him.

"What the fuck is happening out there?" a voice yelled 

Eggsy blinked, and he undid the latch on the top and slid down the small window. He was met with a very pretty face, long blond hair and the bluest eyes, all looking rather desperate behind the door. "Ain't you that Princess that went missing?" That at least solved the mystery of where all the kidnapped people were, although he had already guessed as much.

"Can you get me out?" she asked, leaning up on the sill of the window to see him and the outside a bit better.

Eggsy didn't see why not. That should be their next step anyway, freeing everyone. As he looked down to jiggle the handle and look at the keypad, he was interrupted as Valentine's voice echoed ominously in the hall. 

"You motherfucker." 

Eggsy looked up, dread creeping back in. 

"Did you really think I'd be dumb enough to implant one of those things in my own head? What are you fucking crazy?" Valentine sounded unbelievably angry.

Eggsy had, actually, rather hoped Valentine had put one in his own head. That would easily have solved his problem. A little too easily, he realized with a frown. 

"All of those innocent people killed -- and for what? You didn't stop shit! It's still happening!"

Eggsy hoped the irony of that statement wasn't lost on him.

Seemed he still had a job to do.

Merlin heard Valentine's voice through Eggsy's glasses and grit his teeth. "Back into it, then," he muttered.

Heaving a sigh, and repressing the urge to run his hand through his hair or rip off his tie, Eggsy promised the princess he would come back for her, and trotted over to one of the fallen men to pick up one of the guns that had dropped.

"Harry--" he said, more calm this time as he ran. "Call my mum. Tell her to lock herself away from Dean and Daisy too. Just... Just in case I don't get it done in time. Please." His jaw twitched at the thought, but he couldn't distract himself with it now. He could only use it as a motivator to go as quickly as humanly possible.

It was at least a little bit better as he ran along this time, knowing he wouldn't suddenly run into a wall of people shooting at him; there were only two targets left. The woman with knives for legs and Valentine himself. 

Eggsy cocked the gun as he rounded the corner. He didn't give them so much as a second before he was firing at the glass, spraying bullets to try and break it down to shoot at them directly. He may not know of a way to get up there himself, but if he could keep them from turning on the weapon, that was all that mattered.

Working rather mechanically, Harry had Merlin dial up Michelle's number, clearing his throat as the phone rang. "Hello, Michelle," he said when she picked up, and Merlin couldn't help but wince at the almost robotic tone. "It's Harry. This might sound a bit strange, but I need you to lock your daughter in the bathroom and throw away the key."

Not exactly one to mince words in the best of situations, Harry certainly wasn't going to bother with idle small talk when lives were on the line.

-

Things in the lair weren't going well for Valentine. He'd finally managed to make things happen, his satellites had linked back up, his hand was on the scanner, the world was falling apart just as he had planned, and suddenly there was a hailstorm of bullets. Gazelle's arm snapped around his waist, tugging him down behind his control center and stopping the chaos momentarily. 

"Stay here," she ordered him sternly. 

Valentine wasn't planning on going anywhere, that much was certain. As she broke through the glass, already firing at their adversary, he popped back up, slamming his hand down again and restarting the weapon. 

As Eggsy ran out of ammo, he threw away the clip and slammed a new one into place, just in time to look up and see Gazelle crashing through the glass, firing a gun of her own at him. He frantically held up the gun to defend himself, and it was a good thing he did, as the moment she landed she started kicking and slicing at him with her legs, cutting the gun directly in half.

Clearly, Eggsy had to eliminate her to get to Valentine, as once she was out of the way there would be nothing left to stand in the way of stopping the machine. Determined, Eggsy used the muscle memory from training to block as she kept kicking at him, trying to get his face, his chest, his head. Eggsy grabbed anything around him that could help, metal bowls sliced in half, what was once a type of vase proved useless as a bat, and Gazelle just kept coming at him, kicking and lunging and sending him flying back and breaking a table with his body.

Grasping his side in the pain, that was going to leave a mark, Merlin yelled at him to “fucking get on with it,” just as Valentine did the same, asking if he was dead yet. 

Eggsy lunged at Gazelle as she ran for him, kicking her right in the chest and sending her backwards. He couldn't beat her in straight hand to hand combat; she would slice him to pieces in no time, and he was rapidly running on empty, the strain of the past few days really taking its toll. This needed to end, and fast. For every second he was fucking around with Gazelle, people were dying. If he couldn't do it, maybe one of his gadgets could.

Again they launched into the air, and Eggsy clicked his heels to release the blade in his shoe as she extended her blades in her legs. He angled his foot, hoping against hope that he’d hit her as he fell hard against the ground and rolled to a stop. 

She skidded and dragged gouges in the wood, and they both stood, panting. 

Eggsy pawed at his chest where he had felt her blade glide past him, and pulled out half of his tie -- the only damage she seemed to have done.

Gazelle smirked briefly, until the stinging evidently caught up with her, and she looked down at the small cut in her arm. The green markings of the neurotoxin crawled up her body, and she looked at him in surprise and a sort of fear, knowing in that split second that she had lost. 

Eggsy only smirked. 

She made a choking sound, and fell backwards, limp, dead.

Eggsy exhaled slowly, eyes flicking up to see Valentine as he called out happily, "Gazelle! Gazelle-?"

At Merlin's insistence, Eggsy looked around as he was out of weapons -- or was he? Gazelle lay dead, so he bent down, pulled off one of her bladed legs, and extended it. Taking a few steps back, he yelled, throwing the knife like a javelin and sending it straight into Valentine's heart. He choked, spluttered, vomited, and fell backwards off of the balcony he had made for himself, limp, and more importantly, his hand off the desk. The music stopped.

Merlin watched the signal die, enthusiastically congratulating Eggsy, Roxy quick to add in a "Yes, Eggsy!" from her end. There would be an aftermath, of course. They hadn't stopped it from happening entirely, and it would be a hell of a time to clean all this up, not to mention all the internal workings of Kingsman what with Arthur's death, but for now Merlin would allow himself a moment of relief.

Eggsy let himself smile lightly at the praise. He'd done it. Slowly, he made his way over to where Valentine lay, wanting to make sure he was really done.

"Sup, man?" Valentine said, gasping around the blood filling his mouth. "Is this the part where you say some really bad pun?"

Eggsy bent down, hands on his knees to see him better and smirked. For a split second, the thought occurred to him to quickly come up with some awful pun that would have to be the last thing Valentine heard. But looking at him, seeing the man that almost killed his husband, the man that had wanted to kill millions of people, Eggsy only felt anger, loathing. "Go fuck yourself, bruv.”

Valentine’s head lolled backwards, eyes glazed as the last breath left his body.

Eggsy straightened, fixing his sleeve and making a point to step over Valentine’s corpse. Eggsy started back out the door, his legs by now far too exhausted to allow him to run. He made his way back to the plane; he only wanted to rest.

Merlin glanced at Eggsy as he came him, giving him a nod. He turned back to his computer screen, hastily entering the exit codes for all the cells, releasing a flood of celebrities and royalty, all of whom had rejected Valentine's proposition. Something would have to be done with them, too.

But there was another matter to be attended to first, and it was standing right in front of him. He stood and approached Eggsy, settling a hand on his shoulder. "Well done, lad. You and Roxy have both more than earned your place as Kingsmen."

As Merlin touched his shoulder and praised him, Eggsy glowed weakly inside and exhaled a noise that was something like a laugh. He had all but forgotten he hadn't even officially been a member of Kingsman, still just a recruit. That was one helluva last test. 

Eggsy nodded his thanks and sank into a seat wearily, rubbing his temples with the heels of his palms as he bent over double. He didn't think he'd ever been more tired in his entire life. If he were to fall asleep right now, he might not wake up for a few days.

His head lifted and eyes squinted through the plain glass lenses of his glasses to look for Harry, his tactile urges compelling him to touch him in some way, to reassure himself they both were alive and they were going to head home soon. 

They weren't going to linger there long, not of Merlin had anything to say about it. There was work to be done, but he'd send some other agents on it for now; Harry and Eggsy needed rest before they would be any good to him again. "Let's get the two of you home," he said, disappearing into the cockpit and starting up the engines.

Harry slid the paneling closed, sealing the arsenal back up as the plane took off before heading back into the main body.

Home had never sounded better.

When Harry appeared, Eggsy lifted his arm out to him, wordlessly requesting him to come over to him, take the seat directly next to him.

Harry's eyes flicked to Eggsy, and he wordlessly came over to sit beside him, reaching out to tangle their hands together. They had a seven hour flight that he was nearly certain he wouldn't be able to stay awake for, and he leaned his head back, eyes sliding closed.

Holding onto his hand was more than enough, and Eggsy too let his eyes slide closed, asleep before they even hit cruising altitude.

Harry didn't dream at all. He was under almost immediately, and his body's only goal was to get as much rest as possible. There were not many things that could have woken him at that moment, even if someone had wanted to.

Merlin brought the plane down again only about a half hour after they had first taken to the air, picking Roxy up and telling her the same thing he'd told Eggsy. He suspected there would be some open spots in the agency once all was said and done.

After their slight detour, Merlin didn't stop again until they had reached Kingsman headquarters, bringing the plane to a smooth and steady landing.

Eggsy only stirred when the plane landed to pick up Roxy for a few minutes, his eyes cracking sleepily open and giving her a groggy smile. He wished he could congratulate her properly, he knew how hard it had been for her to do that, but he just couldn't keep his eyes open. His head dipped, falling asleep as his head hit Harry's shoulder.

They landed at Kingsman and the loudness of the plane touching down was enough to rouse Eggsy again, eyes squeezing shut as he lifted his head, his body fighting him as it wanted desperately to cling to sleep, unaware he was still holding on to Harry's hand.

Harry didn't wake up for either of the landings, didn't even stir until Eggsy lifted his head from his shoulder. His eyes drifted lazily open, as he slowly reoriented himself. Every inch of his body ached, a stark reminder that he had never really gotten more than a patch job from Merlin, and he groaned. Going back to sleep sounded like a wonderful idea, but he knew he at least needed stitches and some painkillers before that was liable to happen.

Merlin emerged from the cockpit, giving all three of them once-overs. Roxy was the only one unscathed and both Harry and Eggsy looked like they were still dead on their feet. "The two of you can rest in medical," he informed them, lowering the plane door. "Roxy can help me start getting things sorted. Try and be back in a couple of days, if you can; there's going to be a lot going on."

Humming in acknowledgment, Eggsy let go of Harry to press the heel of his palm to his forehead. Christ, it hurt. He knew he was better off than Harry was, he would be walking away with only bruising and a sharp pain in his head to go with the dull aching in his legs, chest, and ringing in his ears, but he still wanted to go to medical too, see that Harry was situated. And maybe get himself some pain medication while he was there. If he had a few days to get over the myriad of traumas he had been through in the past two days, Eggsy wanted to spend some of it passed out in his own bed with his own clothes, raid Harry's medicine closet for any medication he may need, call his mother and his friends to see if anything had gone wrong.

The thought made Eggsy’s head throb again and he groaned, carefully and slowly pushing himself to his feet. He waited for Harry, not wanting to go too far without him, finally sliding off his glasses and placing them in the breast pocket of his suit, which he also was quite eager to be rid of. Not very comfortable for sleeping in, as good as it looked on him.

Slowly, Harry got to his feet, wincing as his shirt rubbed against the bandage Merlin had put on, irritating his stab wound a little. The considerable amount of sleep he'd gotten hadn't seemed to have done much to ease his exhaustion or bring him back to himself, and he walked forwards almost mechanically, only glancing behind him to make sure Eggsy was following him. From the looks of things, he was pretty battered himself.

It was hard to tell, as he wasn't even close to standing fully upright and put together, but as Eggsy saw Harry move past him still rather rigid and not himself, his shoulders slumped a little. He was really hoping Harry would come back to himself soon, but he couldn't blame him for not; Harry had had a terrible time of it, and if Merlin was to be believed, this was the worst he had ever reacted to it, so Eggsy was seeing him at his worst. He just wished there was something he could do, though he wasn't really in any condition to do anything other than loosely hold his hand, which he refrained from doing.

Merlin and Roxy parted ways at the entrance to the hangar, Roxy capturing Eggsy's hand in hers briefly and giving it a reassuring squeeze before trailing after the magician. 

When Roxy gently gave his hand a squeeze, Eggsy gave her a tired yet grateful smile before they parted. It was nice to have that small bit of assurance. 

Eggsy followed silently behind Harry down to the medical bay, his eyes on the dark patch on his back where the stab wound had been bleeding through.

Once they got there, the med staff flocked around them, one doctor peeling away with Harry and the other taking charge over Eggsy. 

Harry sat patiently throughout his examination, a phenomenon to those who knew what he was normally like when it came to getting stitched up. It took them a solid hour to attend to him fully, and by that time he was barely able to keep his eyes open.

When Eggsy's doctor escorted him away, he answered all his questions in a lackluster manner. He answered mostly yes and no, voice monotone, eyes closing when he was allowed to let them. The overall tests only took fifteen minutes, and he was diagnosed with a mild migraine for which he was given painkillers, and bruising and general exhaustion, for which he was prescribed rest.

"Do I gotta stay in med bay then?" Eggsy felt a little guilty about wanting to leave, but he needed to get out, get some space from Kingsman, see his mother, sleep for days without interruption.

"No, no I suppose you don't." The doctor sounded reluctant, as though he wanted to keep Eggsy there, but didn't quite have a reason for it.

As soon as he was cleared, Eggsy turned and made a beeline out of there. He reached the hall, taking a deep breath of air, and waited outside for a Kingsman car, taking out his phone to send Harry a message while he was still conscious enough to do so. 

_ hey. went home. text me if u need me _

When Eggsy got in the cab, he told the driver to please take him home, and fell asleep in the back seat.

-

After being told that ideally they would like to keep him for observation, and Harry waving that off (he'd already spent quite enough time there in his opinion) he checked the text he'd gotten at some point during his examination. He slipped his phone back in his pocket without answering, making his way out to the front steps to wait for the next available taxi. As soon as it pulled up, he clambered in, mindful of his stitches. He muttered his address, slumping down in the backseat, nearly falling asleep as the cab rumbled off. 

-

When the car pulled up to the house, Eggsy woke up again, rubbing his eyes and feeling somehow, impossibly, still fucking exhausted. He thanked the driver and got out, starting the seemingly arduous task of walking to the front door, unlocking it, climbing the stairs to the room he shared with Harry, and stripping off his suit. It was good, actually bespoke, so even through his exhaustion, Eggsy knew better than to just let the pieces pool on the floor like he wanted to. He folded and hung up the pieces on a hanger he took from Harry's -- it still was mostly Harry's, he hadn't moved his clothing over yet -- closet and hung it on the door handle for lack of anywhere else to put it. Leaving him in his boxers and reminding him of how much he really needed a shower, he forewent everything, collapsing face-first on the bed they shared, asleep again as soon as he burrowed under the covers and buried his face in a pillow. 

Wearily, Harry got out of the cab, offering the driver a muttered thanks before dragging his way to the front door. As soon as he got inside, his shoulders slumped forward with relief. It was good to be back home.

Automatically, he headed for his bedroom, looking forward to collapsing into his bed. He stopped when he saw Eggsy. For some reason, the thought of climbing into bed with him wasn't the least bit appealing, and he quietly tugged the door closed. 

He made his way to the guest bedroom, still scattered about with Eggsy's things, and shrugged out of his clothes. The suit jacket he'd ditched long ago and the shirt was bloody, as good as ruined. The only thing he bothered folding were his slacks, and as soon as that was done he lay himself down and drifted back off to sleep.

Without anything to surprise him or the loud noises of planes landing, Eggsy slept and slept and kept on sleeping. He had arrived at the house in the early hours of morning, right when the sun came up, and by the time he was no longer feeling quite so exhausted, enough to actually get himself up, the sun had gone back down. He slowly flopped over onto his back, staring at the darkened ceiling.

The bed was empty, as he'd expected it to be. When he grabbed his phone, he saw he had no messages, which again, didn't surprise him. He expected Harry to still be asleep in medical, or at least not needing him, and anyone else who would send him messages was probably too afraid of their phones until they got new chips installed. He really should call his mother.

All in all, he should be grateful, Eggsy thought. He didn't dream the entire time he was out; it had just been a heavy sleep of simulated death. No nightmares of JB's death, the church, the approaching men at the base cornering him, the fight with Gazelle, any of it that ordinarily would have left him with a fitful night's rest. Maybe he was already becoming immune after all the repeated and continuous mental trauma, he thought with bitter amusement.

His head still hurt something awful, and Eggsy took that as his cue to sit up in the bed, shuffle over to find the medicine the doctor had given him yesterday and pop some back. While he was up, he may as well shower. Keeping the lights off -- he had tried flicking them on, and the bright light brought more splitting pain sharply to his head -- he climbed into the shower, letting the warm water run over his body and his still aching muscles. 

As he stood there, willing his body to relax, Eggsy took inventory of all the marks on himself he could see. It was almost amusing to see the wide variety of things they had come from, reminding him of all that bullshit had happened in only a few days. He felt almost like he had aged a year.

When he climbed out eventually, he dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt of his that was still on the floor -- it smelled clean enough, and he didn't feel like rummaging through his clothing an entire room away -- and made his way downstairs in the dark to get coffee and put some food in him. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had had food properly; he had been far too anxious and busy to really eat since... his mother's house? Fuck. No wonder his stomach hurt. 

Eggsy set about preparing something in silence and in darkness, his mind too preoccupied to play music with wondering what he was going to do about everything. 

-

Harry hadn't slept on the way home, and he hadn't fully recovered from his desperate fight at the church or the following one with Arthur. He didn't wake up until the sun had fully sank below the horizon, and he still didn't feel entirely ready to be conscious again. Still, hunger drove him out of bed. Food, then more sleep, and then maybe he'd see about the more extravagant things like showering.

Wincing as he made his way down the stairs, he realized he could hear movement in the kitchen. Eggsy must be up already. He shuffled into the kitchen, not bothering to switch on the light since Eggsy hadn't.

Eggsy had been making anything that he could grab that seemed fast enough to make, which in his case was an unorthodox mix of eggs, chicken, and a bit of cheese, when he heard noises behind him. He blinked, confused and his train of thought broken, as he turned his head to see what was making it. "Harry?" Eggsy was beyond confused; that didn't make sense. "What're you doing here?"

Harry paused in his process of looking through the fridge, brow furrowing slightly. "I've lived here a lot longer than you, Eggsy," he reminded him. 

"Obviously," Eggsy said, waving that idea away. "But I thought you was still at medical. You weren't there when I got up," he frowned, his eyes going up to look at the bedroom through the ceiling. Had Harry just gotten in?

Harry shrugged his good shoulder, closing the fridge door in favor of digging out bread from the pantry. "I slept in the guest bedroom."

Eggsy stared at Harry’s back for a moment. That was an option, but one he immediately discounted. "Why?" he asked without really thinking.

Harry didn't look up from pulling a piece of bread out of the packaging and sticking it in the toaster. "Didn't want to wake up with my hands around your throat," he said. The 'again' was silent.

Eggsy still frowned, though he didn't respond. He supposed that made sense, Harry very well might attack him in his sleep after all of that. Though he personally would have risked it if it meant being with him. Turning back to his food, which was nearly done cooking, he pulled it off the burner and onto his plate to bring it to the table and eat in the darkness.

Harry glanced at Eggsy’s back as he walked away, leaning back against the counter to wait for his own breakfast. Once it was done, he spread some butter over it, choosing to just eat it there instead of bothering with a plate and sitting down in the dining room with Eggsy. "I'm going back to bed," he muttered once he was finished, heading over towards the stairs.

Eggsy looked up as he walked by him, nearly choking as he swallowed down his mouthful of eggs. "Harry," he said, making to stop him. "I don't mind. I'll risk it."

Hardly pausing on his way up the stairs, Harry glanced back over his shoulder. "I won't."

Eggsy could hardly say anything else on his way up the stairs before he was gone. Eggsy sank in his seat a little, sighing to himself as he prodded his food with his fork despite his appetite.

Harry closed the door to the guest bedroom and leaned back against it, head hitting the wood as he looked up at the ceiling as if there would be something written on it that would help him. It wasn't that that had been a lie. He truly didn't want to wake up choking Eggsy again, and he wouldn't put it past himself to have nightmares. But it was more than that. He just wanted to be  _ alone.  _

Eggsy really was feeling rather miserable as Harry left him and ascended the stairs. He really had hoped Harry would be with him once he was back, because for all the shit Eggsy had gone through, he really wanted to touch and feel another body with him; he desperately didn't want to be alone. Alone meant there was no one there with him when he inevitably woke up in the darkness, nothing to hold onto when the panic set in. He felt awful, sitting alone in the dark, wanting the food in his stomach already to spare himself the task of actually eating it.

When he finally finished, he kept sitting there, staring at the darkened wall as he tried to convince himself to do something, anything. He felt as though he had slept enough, that he shouldn't go back to sleep, but he could think of nothing else to do. Even video games sounded boring. 

Eggsy’s stomach hurt, and he touched it with his hand as he fought back his headache. This seemed like a metaphor for the rest of his life. Everything hurt, and he had no idea what he was going to do.

-

Alone wasn't exactly satisfying. Harry liked it, he was used to it, and it was doing more to soothe him than anything else, but the thought lingered in the back of his mind that this wasn't the way Eggsy operated. His husband was tactile, needy for touch that he should be giving him after all they'd been through that day. But the effort of offering Eggsy that sort of comfort seemed like more than he could handle.

Wearily collapsing back into the bed, Harry found himself mostly unable to sleep, just staring into the darkness, contemplating what he was going to do about all this.

Eventually, Eggsy fell into old habits, sitting down in front of the television with a controller in his hands. He didn't want to think, didn't want to consider any of this. He wanted to pretend, just for a bit, that it was all normal, that he hadn't killed God knew how many people in the last 24 hours and Harry wasn't being distant and the world hadn't just ended. After all of that, he felt he should feel better about saving the world. His face felt hot as he jammed his headphones on, squinting and enduring the headache the screen was causing it. The splitting pain was enough to help distract him too. And in a weird sort of way, he liked the pain it was causing him. 

Harry drifted back off into sleep, but it wasn't the exhausted sleep of before. It was lighter, more normal, and with it came the nightmares he'd been waiting for. They weren't very coherent, mostly blurred images of his hands covered in blood and Eggsy's lifeless face turning to him, mouth opening, the strange sound he'd heard in the church coming from him. He stumbled backwards, hands clamped over his ears, only to trip over Arthur's corpse. The dead king's hand shot out, wrapping around his ankle and glaring up at him accusingly. He bolted awake covered in sweat, tangled up in the sheets, desperately trying to catch his breath. 

Eggsy had no idea how much time he was wasting, by design. His phone was off in his pocket, eyes focused on the screen even through the darkening spots in his vision. Eggsy eventually was in so much pain and so miserable despite the fun he usually had from his game, he pushed it away from him. He couldn't take this anymore, and it felt like the sun was coming, so he stood, leaving the controller on the floor and the tv showing the 'no signal' mode without really even seeing it. 

Eggsy slowly made his way up the stairs, fighting his stomach pain and head pain and decided to just collapse in bed. When he reached Harry's room, his room, whatever, he lay as always on his own side of the bed, holding one of the spare pillows tightly to his chest as he tried very hard to sleep.


	28. A Distance

Honestly, Harry had thought it would fade. He was used to being alone, yes, but he had also gotten used to Eggsy, having him around, having to constantly spend time with another person. Hell, he’d even come to like spending time with another person... But being around Eggsy felt like itching. 

Harry constantly felt restless whenever they were in the same room. He'd toss glances over his way that could almost be construed as suspicious, shift from one sitting position to another, feel like Eggsy's eyes were on him even if they weren't.

It got to be so that Harry could hardly stand to think of him being in the same house. The worst part was he didn't even know  _ why. _ Some of it, he supposed, was fear. Fear of hurting him, mostly; he was plagued by nightmare after nightmare of killing Eggsy, always woke up from them in a cold sweat with an overwhelming surge of panic, the reassurance of Eggsy's body nowhere to be found. Of course, that was his own doing, seeing as he'd taken up a semi-permanent residence in the guest bedroom. He'd not tried sleeping with Eggsy again since they'd returned from V-Day, certain he wouldn't be able to get a wink of sleep were he to try.

Another part of it was exhaustion. V-Day had fractured Harry into a million pieces, shattered him emotionally, and he hadn't begun putting all the pieces back together again. It was a patchwork thing, coming along slowly, not quickly enough to mend the rift he could see forming between him and Eggsy in front of his very eyes. The task of fixing it seemed far too daunting to take on, so he left it aside, choosing to turn inwards instead.

Harry made it a point to avoid Eggsy, hardly spoke to him when he did either. It was like the first few weeks when they'd just gotten married, only with the knowledge of how it could be so much better. Sometimes he offered him a quiet 'good morning' or 'sleep well', but most of the time Harry only pointed out something that needed doing or something he had done. The thought of apologizing for his strange behavior crossed his mind several times, but he never could find the words to piece it together and he left it unspoken.

Eventually, Harry felt something shift back into place. He missed Eggsy, missed feeling him in his arms, missed hearing him laugh, missed seeing him smile. He'd had so little of it and he was looking forward to more. But that wasn't going to happen if he didn't get his shit together. 

So one morning Harry made his way out of bed and to his bedroom. Finding it empty, he paused, the slight clattering from the kitchen indicating where his husband was. Quickly, he dressed (his stitches had been taken out a few days prior, but the wound still tugged slightly, reminding him to be cautious) and headed down the stairs, finding Eggsy standing at the sink.

He stepped up behind him, winding his arms around his waist and burying his face in the crook of Eggsy's neck. "Good morning," he breathed, words muffled against his skin. 

-

As time wore on, Eggsy could escape himself less and less. It felt like he was drowning in himself, nothing but feelings surrounding him day in and day out. He couldn't stand it. At first Harry's distance and lack of response confused and saddened him, the coldness in the bed a reminder not that Harry was gone, but that he was  _ choosing _ not to be with him. He'd needed Harry, the memories and constant nightmares fresh enough in his mind that he frequently woke up, gasping deep breaths and panicking so often it became more commonplace than not.

Harry had said he'd loved him, but if he did, wouldn't be be there? 

This had been Eggsy’s first mission, right after he'd killed his dog, killed people against his will and intentionally, and he was not handling it well. And yet, day in and day out, he was alone in the middle of that too-large bed, a reminder that the brief stint of happiness between them must have been too good to be true.

Eventually, Eggsy stopped expecting anything. He would see Harry out of the corner of his eye and not look up. Harry wouldn't respond to him, and looking at him didn't do him any good. 

Eggsy went to visit his mother, glazing over the honeymoon and smiling benignly at her, faking every emotion he had to show but happiness that she and Daisy both had made it out alive. When he made it back, he didn't bother telling Harry about it. Besides, when he opened the door he saw Harry heading toward the stairs, evidently retreating after hearing the keys jingle in the lock.

Worse, Eggsy was developing pains rather than getting rid of them. While the bruising went away and the migraines had lessened, his muscles and stomach still ached, and there was a weight in his chest that never seemed to go away. It was harder to play games even, his emotions seemingly on a short fuse. He was getting quicker to anger, sadness making his eyes prickle, the jokes that made him laugh making him laugh until his sides hurt. It was disconcerting that he couldn't keep a lid on it all as much as he was used to, but he was trying, dammit, and it was getting all the more frustrating that nothing he did was working.

Finally, Eggsy gave it up. Weeks had gone by and Harry still had barely said anything to him beyond 'good morning.' He could adjust, he could go back to being awkward roommates, and at least this time he had a job he could throw himself into. It was obvious that he should just switch rooms with Harry and continue on as they had before. 

But it was so much harder this time now that Eggsy knew what it was like to have Harry look at him with soft, fond eyes. He dragged his feet about it; if Harry was going to make him feel so shitty, he was damn well going to sleep in the fucking guest room for awhile. Eggsy was going to wake up, do his morning routine, go to work, and sleep there as needed. He was hardened; if Harry didn't want him, he didn't want Harry either.

Eggsy woke as he always did, slowly, and eventually made his way downstairs to make his coffee and breakfast; he hadn't put a kettle on in three weeks. When he was finished, he stood at the sink, washing the dishes slowly and killing time before going in to Kingsman. 

Eventually, Eggsy heard sounds of movement behind him, but as he often did now, he didn't turn around, didn't make any sort of acknowledgment and hadn't planned on it unless he heard a 'good morning,' to which he would only hum.

What Eggsy hadn't expected was arms suddenly encircling him, a face pressed to his neck. A few long and arduous weeks ago, the surprise of Harry wrapping his arms around him would have given him butterflies in his stomach. He would have leaned into it, would have smiled and happily said good morning in return. 

But today, Eggsy immediately stiffened, made uncomfortable and his stomach upset by the touch. He squirmed, trying to get out of his grip. "Stop." He spoke flatly, his shoulders tight, eyes focused down on what he was doing.

Harry didn't, not at first. He tightened his arms slightly, lifting his head enough to skim his lips across the shell of Eggsy's ear. "But I want you," he murmured. For the first time in a long time, he genuinely did, wanted to be around Eggsy again and talk to him, wanted to hold him like this. 

The words Eggsy had been desperate to hear, greedy for, did nothing for him other than fan the flame of anger on his short fuse. "Yeah, well, it's a little fucking late, Harry." His voice was still flat, its only emotion a humourless sarcasm. He pushed at the arms around him, trying to pry them away, his head tilting away from Harry when he felt his lips, his whole body completely tensed.

At that, Harry did drop his arms, stepping away just far enough to give Eggsy some space but not far enough to make it seem like he was retreating. "What?" he asked, not quite comprehending what Eggsy was going on about. He knew he'd treated him somewhat poorly in the past few weeks, but he was trying to make up for it now.

As Harry backed off, the tension in Eggsy’s shoulders lessened a little, but he still remained stiff, glaring down into the sink. "You can't fuck with me like that. You barely speak to me, don't look at me for fucking  _ weeks, _ and you expect to come in here and try and hold me like it's all fucking fine and good?" He slammed down the, at this point, very wet dish in the sink and turned around, glaring at Harry now instead. "Are you so self-centered that you don't know what you've fucking done to me this whole time? My life, whatever the fuck our relationship is, they aren't a show for your amusement that you can stop and start at your goddamned convenience." 

Yes, Harry had fucked up over these past few weeks, he knew that much. But he'd never been exceedingly patient nor dealt with anger directed at him well, and the way Eggsy was acting was getting to him. Pressing down his swelling irritation as best he could, he folded his arms over his chest, jaw setting stubbornly. "I needed time, Eggsy. Time I  _ thought _ you'd be willing to give me. Had I known this was how you would react, I might have acted differently, but I didn't know I constantly had to shower you in affection for you to understand how I feel about you. You aren't a  _ show, _ you're my husband. I told you I loved you; did you think that I was lying?"

Harry was only fueling Eggsy’s anger, picking up steam with every bit he said. "I gave you time and I gave you space, something I know enough about you to know you needed. But you should have known enough about me to know I needed  _ you  _ too. My first fucking mission, and I killed my dog, and I killed all those people, and I almost lost you, and I almost died -- and I had to work through that alone with you barely fucking acknowledging me." His own jaw set, his stomach tightened and churned quite unpleasantly. He might be sick. "I don't need constant fucking affection, I needed you telling me, even  _ once _ , 'it's gonna be alright, just give me a bit longer,' not 'good morning' if I was  _ lucky. _ You can't just say 'I love you' and do nothing when I'm reaching out because I'm fucked up. I've seen how that story ends, bruv, and it ain't a good one."

"And you think I would have been much help to you in the state I was in?" Harry hissed, the loose hold he had on his patience slipping a couple notches. Not once had he ever felt truly angry at Eggsy before, but he was pushing him. "I couldn't tell you it was alright without lying to you, because it  _ wasn't. _ What was I supposed to say, 'it's alright, Eggsy, that's why I'm ignoring you'? I doubt you would have believed me. Need I remind you, I almost lost you as well.  _ Twice. _ And I thought I was the cause of it one of those times. I suggest you don't try and compare body counts either," he snapped, the faces in the church flashing through his mind, Arthur's blood staining his fingers, the order to reverse the implants coming out of his mouth. "That's not a fight you would win." 

Harry wasn't understanding, and holy shit, was it frustrating. Eggsy was just getting angrier and angrier and he hated it; he didn't want to be angry. He wished he could have just let it go and held onto Harry when he came in and worked this out slowly, but he didn't have the patience or the control to keep it all in now it was flowing out. 

"None of that changes the fact that I fucking needed you. All of that shit we went through, it was my first time dealing with it. I had nothing to compare it to, so everything I did was the new worst thing I'd ever done. It's the nature of it, but I kept not dealing with it because I wanted to make sure you were gonna be okay first. I killed so many people, fucking brutally, and kept having nightmare after nightmare, and my husband -- whom I love and was supposed to love and be there for me -- was actively avoiding me. It's been so fucking hard, Harry. And everything still  _ fucking _ hurts." At that, Eggsy turned back around to the sink to throw something, choosing to grab the towel he'd been using to dry and throwing it into the bottom of the sink. He kept facing it, gripping the edge of the counter tightly. Again, the urge to vomit was rising; he'd been doing that a lot, recently. He chalked it up to being so angry it was making him sick.

Concern warred with frustration for primary focus. The sting of truth in Eggsy's accusations were only provoking Harry more, but hearing that he was still in pain brought with it a pang of worry. Eggsy should have healed long before Harry, and he himself was pretty much done healing. He wasn't at all sure that Eggsy would appreciate him asking after it, though, not after all this. "I..." 

Harry wanted to say he was sorry, that he hadn't meant to pull so far back into himself, that it had taken this long for him to get back out, but he'd never had an easy time of things like that, and he was still irritated. "Can't always be there for you. Not in the way you apparently need me to be." He fell silent for a second before sighing and looking away. "Maybe this was a mistake." 

That was not at  _ all _ what Eggsy wanted to hear. He really wasn't asking for much from Harry, just some attention when he was having a really hard time.  _ Maybe this was a mistake? _ ... Maybe this was a mistake. 

Eggsy turned around again and looked at Harry with his jaw set, eyes narrowed defensively, like he was about to say something. But he didn't, he couldn't. He shoved away from the sink and pushed past him, stalking to the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

Harry braced himself for the inevitable comment that he was sure was coming when Eggsy whirled around, looking for all the world like he just wanted to scream at him. But instead he just went off silently, even going so far as to slam the door somewhat childishly. Harry figured he could let that slide. He didn't feel much like eating and instead retreated back upstairs. Perhaps it was time to move himself more permanently into the guest bedroom.

When he was outside, Eggsy called for a cab to come get him to take him to work, a hand over his very upset stomach as he let his face heat up, his eyes prickle. He waited for the car at the curb, holding his head and his gut and hunched in on himself against the chill and the pains of his aching body and mind.

The cab pulled up eventually, and the cabbie turned to look at Eggsy when he came in. "Merlin has requested you get a physical examination before going back on field missions, sir. Shall I take you to medical?"  

Oh course Merlin fucking had. Eggsy just sat in the back and nodded with a sigh, looking out the window and trying to push down his anger and his fucking never-ending feelings. At least he would get to go back to field missions soon. At best, maybe it could help him calm down enough to forgive Harry, and at worst...

"Yeah, okay," Eggsy agreed, rubbing at his eyes.

The cabbie glanced back at him in the rearview mirror, eyes softening sympathetically. It was, perhaps, a good thing he was going to medical; he didn't look entirely well. He pulled up as close to the med bay as he could, offering Eggsy a small nod. "Good luck, sir."

"Thank you. And thanks for the lift," Eggsy said, giving the driver a small smile of gratitude before he got out. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he ascended the small set of stairs to the med bay. 

By now, Eggsy knew the medical bay layout pretty well, so it didn't take him very long to make his way down the halls to the examination rooms where he expected Merlin to be if he wanted him.

Merlin was indeed waiting for Eggsy, glancing up from his clipboard as he came in. "It's time you and Harry got back into it. Harry, however, has not been in for a few weeks; I'd like you to talk to him and get that sorted out, if you wouldn't mind. For the moment, we can at least deal with you. I'll go over the tests with you when you're finished, see if you can go back on active duty." 

At the mention of talking to Harry, Eggsy grimaced, but nodded nonetheless. He could at least relay messages from Merlin; he probably wouldn't get angry over that. "Yes," he said to show his understanding, though that was about the extent of his reaction. He walked over to the medical chair/bed combo thing and sat on it, waiting for the doctor to come in and actually perform the tests.

Giving him a nod of affirmation, Merlin made his way out of the room, the doctor taking his place only a moment later. 

"Good morning, Eggsy," he said, snapping on his latex gloves and glancing over at him. "Let's get started." 

-

The tests were aggravating. The doctor prodded all of Eggsy’s former injuries, his sore spots and joints, and Eggsy lied as to the extent of the pain. He answered questions about his migraines, let the doctor take his pulse and blood pressure, temperature and heart rate, blood sample, urine sample. Pretty much anything his body made, the doctor took some of to test for something or other. 

When the doctor pushed on his stomach, Eggsy groaned in pain, curling up away from it. The doctor frowned at that, and continued asking him questions about it. He was a bit self conscious, especially as he was fighting down the urge to be sick again.

-

Merlin sat staring at the test results for a bit. He couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, but eventually he made his way back to Eggsy, staring at him with what could almost be called a glare. "We don't forbid our agents from having children, Eggsy, but we do like them to tell us when they're _ trying. _ For God's sake, I almost sent you back out into the field."

The glare threw him right off, Eggsy frowning and confused as to why Merlin would be angry with him. What could he possibly have done just sitting here? His words hardly made it any better. "...what?" Eggsy must have misheard or misunderstood. It sounded like Merlin was implying that he and Harry -- or he, at least -- was trying to have a kid? That couldn't be further from the truth.

Merlin looked at him as if it were obvious, one eyebrow inching upwards. "You're pregnant, Eggsy. A little over six weeks."

Eggsy looked at him with wide eyes. Pregnant? He was... No, the words refused to sink in. That couldn't possibly be right. He would have known, he'd just been kind of achey from V-Day, that was all. "No... No, no, no, no, that can't be right. No, it uh... Test it again. Those can fluke, yeah? That can't be possible. Six weeks, we ain't even had sex since--" Since they’d had unprotected sex right before V-Day. Since they’d fucked without a condom the morning of the 24 hours. That seemed to be about six weeks ago, come to think of it.

"...Christ." Eggsy sighed, his head dropping into his hands as he shook it in disbelief. He couldn't be fucking pregnant, he just couldn't.

Immediately, Merlin switched from irritation to concern. He had expected Eggsy to be surprised or even relieved at the discovery, not terrified and in denial. "Eggsy? We  _ can _ test it again, if you'd like, but Kingsman's materials are the most accurate available. They're not likely to have misread anything."

"Fuck," Eggsy breathed, whispering to himself. Harry was already angry with him, had already mentioned that maybe this was a mistake... He pressed his fists into his eyes, his chest hurting. He was fucking scared. He was pregnant, and he had never felt more alone. "Merlin..." he said quietly, looking up at him with a pained expression. "...what am I gonna do?"

This wasn't something Merlin was prepared to handle. He set his clipboard aside, focusing his full attention on Eggsy. "Since it's clear this wasn't yours and Harry's intention, I would suggest telling him to start off with. He'll be able to help you more than I can. But I assure you that Kingsman will be more than willing to give you whatever you need during this, Eggsy; we don't leave our agents on their own for this." 

Eggsy bit back the 'oh no, he won't' that he wanted to say. This wasn't a therapy session, Merlin didn't need to know his marital problems. But at the latter comment, he actually laughed, a humourless laugh of surprise. He'd been alone quite a bit up until now; why would being pregnant make any goddamn bit of difference? "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

Why was no one understanding? Harry didn't understand why Eggsy was upset, Merlin didn't understand why an unplanned pregnancy in an arranged marriage might be problematic for him, they were all dismissing him as overreacting, that he needed to get a grip. This was as good of a grip as he could get right now. At least this explained his urges to vomit and his mood swings, not that this made them any better. He didn't want to tell him, Harry was going to be even angrier with him, and he didn't want that. He just wanted things to go back to how they’d been before V-Day. He'd been happy then.

Eggsy wanted to fight Merlin, but he didn't have it in him just now. He didn't want to fight with two people he looked up to in one day. "After I tell him to come in. Anything else, then?" He sounded rather monotone himself, refusing to deal with more feelings.

Sighing, Merlin shook his head. "Thankfully, no. You're perfectly healthy. There will obviously be some changes you'll have to make if you decide to keep the baby, but we can focus on that later." He paused, settling a hand on Eggsy's shoulder. "If you need me to tell Harry, I will. I just think it would come better from you."

Eggsy just nodded, sighing to himself. "I'll try and tell him today. I'll, eh, head back now, if you're done with me." With maybe a pit stop to throw up. Better to get it over with in both senses. 

Merlin didn't really want to just let Eggsy go in the state he was in, but there wasn't much he could do if he stayed. "Yes, I suppose I'm done with you. You're dismissed."

"Thanks." Eggsy nodded once, standing up from his seat on the examination table. It seemed a bit too much for him to smile or pretend it was fine, so he just made his way out of the room and out of the med bay area.

As Eggsy walked, the situation started really sinking in. He was pregnant. There was a little soon-to-be baby growing in him. He suddenly realized how awful that was -- what if he'd done something? What if he'd hurt it during the mission or -- fuck, he'd had alcohol during the last six weeks, what if he’d fucked it up already just because he didn't know? He felt awful about it, fucking up because he didn't know any better. 

Finally, he was hit with nausea too much to push down, and he ran to the nearest bathroom, clutching a toilet bowl as he retched, finally getting out what he'd been repressing all day.

When Eggsy was done, he felt shaky, weak, but a bit better. At least he knew why it was happening now; that made it a little less scary, though now it was scary for another reason entirely. He called for a cab again, paler than normal, and directed the driver to the house. As the car went along, he touched his stomach absently, his mind very much occupied with thinking about how in the hell he was even going to bring this up to Harry.

The car dropped him off in the driveway, and Eggsy stared at the house with some amount of dread. He took a breath and stood up a little straighter, keys jingling as he unlocked the door and let himself in.

-

Harry hadn't actually done much in the way of transferring belongings from what was still technically his bedroom to the guest room, but he had finally gotten the rest of Eggsy's things switched over. The guest room felt emptier than ever, but he supposed it didn't really matter. As soon as he started going back to Kingsman, he wouldn't be home much anymore. His compelling reason to be there didn't want him anymore.

Said reason walked through the door just as Harry was coming down the stairs, and he halted halfway down, debating just heading right back up.

When Eggsy stepped inside, he rubbed the back of his neck, memories of his departure and the fight they'd had that morning leaving a bad taste in his mouth as he stood in the entryway. "...Harry?" he called somewhat quietly, walking slowly toward the living room, hoping he was still there. Better to get it over with.

That made the decision for him. Sighing, Harry made his way the rest of the way down the stairs, glancing over towards Eggsy. "You're back," he stated flatly.

"Only got a physical," Eggsy sighed, nodding. "Look, uh, can we chat a bit in here?" He frowned, his head tilted as he looked at him.

At least Eggsy seemed willing to talk to him now. Harry nodded once, making his way over to him. 

Eggsy fidgeted a bit. "Eh, Merlin wants you to come in and get checked out too before... you can start working again," he worded carefully. He looked at Harry, very much regretting rebuffing Harry's affection earlier; he really could use it now. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly. He’d already guessed that Merlin would want him to get checked up too; that alone didn’t seem worth calling him down for. "I'll be sure to do that, then," he said carefully. 

Eggsy struggled for a moment. He didn't want to outright tell Harry -- he didn’t think it was the kind of thing he could just get out like that right now -- and besides, if Harry was going to get angry with him again over it, he didn't want it to be on top of other things if he could help it. "...I'm sorry. I didn't want to go off on you like that earlier."

Harry looked at Eggsy for a second without saying anything. His face crumbled an instant later, and he walked forward the few steps it took to reach Eggsy, hands reaching to cradle his face. He took the risk; if Eggsy told him to stop again, he would, but he wanted to touch him. He rested his forehead against Eggsy's. "Forgive me," he breathed. 

One moment Eggsy was steeling himself for Harry to start yelling at him again, to reject his apology, and the next Harry's hands were on him, their foreheads together as he spoke. Eggsy's eyes squeezed shut tightly, his heart hurting at how easily he had forgiven him, especially with how angry they had just been with each other. Reaching for him too, he touched Harry’s arms gently, throat suddenly feeling tight, though he wanted to say something, anything, to him.

"I shouldn't have said any of those things to you," Harry murmured, his eyes closing, head not moving from where it was. "And I shouldn't have left you alone for so long either. You were right. Everything you said earlier, you were right. I wasn't there for you when you needed me, and I... forgive me," he repeated, voice falling to nothing more than a whisper. 

The words Eggsy wanted were right there, some apology for the absolute arsehole he had been that morning, saying deliberately harsh things because he was hurt, but they wouldn't come. All that came out of him when his lips finally moved was, "I've missed you," his hands tightening on Harry’s arms. He cursed his throat, his voice strained even as he finally spoke, and tried to gather together all that he needed to say to him, his stomach twisting from nerves rather than sickness. He could do this, why was it so hard to get it the fuck together?

Harry pulled back, finally opening his eyes and looking at Eggsy briefly, gaze dropping after a second or two. "You shouldn't have had to," he sighed. Something in Eggsy's face had caught his attention, though, and he looked at him more closely, head tilting a bit to one side. "Something's wrong," he ventured, dropping his hands. 

Harry could fucking tell, he really was losing it apparently. Taking a deep breath, Eggsy opened his eyes, giving him a light smile that didn't come close to his eyes. He cleared his throat to try and help and spoke, despite the slightly hoarse way his voice sounded.

"I... I fucked up. I wasn't gonna tell you at first, we was already screaming at each other earlier, I didn't want to make it worse. After this morning, I genuinely thought that you didn't love me anymore or you were gonna divorce me or whatever, I was panicking. Everything has been so confusing and weird, I couldn't tell what was real and what was in my head about anything I was feeling, and fuck, I have been feeling a lot..." Eggsy shook his head, wincing as his fingers absently went to touch his temple as his head gave a dull throb. 

"Everything has been hurting, ever since V-Day. My muscles ache, back hurts, the migraines never really stopped. They gave me the physical and tested for fucking everything. It was really unpleasant actually, and I think they took more blood than they needed to," Eggsy said with a weak twitch of his lips at the vague joke. “Well. They found why... And I didn't want to tell you, I was terrified when he told me because I thought -- well, I thought it was fucking over, innit? That if I told you, you would be even more angry with me, and I hated knowing you were pissed..." 

Another breath; Eggsy had rambled enough, it was time to spit it out. "After they did tests on me and shit they found out that I, uh... am about six weeks pregnant. Merlin said it ain't that bad, they can work with it and shit, and I won't be on active missions for awhile so it ain't that world-ending and all but, I just... I... Yeah," he trailed off, speeding through the actual admission, as if hoping to just fold it in with the rest like Harry wouldn't notice.

Approximately none of that sounded encouraging, and Harry's face deepened further and further into a frown as Eggsy rambled on, not seeing a definitive point to this. When he listed all the pains he'd been having and then mentioned the physical, Harry’s heart stopped, breath catching in his throat. Was Eggsy…? He couldn't be... Well. He wasn't dying. 

Harry’s first thought really was one of relief. Eggsy wasn't dying. He was pregnant. Eggsy was pregnant.

Harry couldn't say anything, couldn't think of anything to say really. Eventually, he managed to come out with, "And you're sure of this?" 

"Uh... Yeah. Merlin said it was pretty definite," Eggsy said, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding direct eye contact.

That kept Harry quiet for another short while, and eventually he let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Do you want to keep it?" he asked.

Eggsy bit down on his lip. Honestly, he hadn't had time to even consider it one way or the other. He'd been too busy panicking and being scared that Harry wasn't going to be receptive to this at all. And Harry’s lack of any actual reaction was itself worrying, but he wasn't going to lie to him about this. 

It was positively insane to want to keep it, going against all sense. They were both spies now, doing dangerous things constantly, no guarantee of making it from one mission to another. They were busy, their relationship was rocky still, and they had had absolutely no conversation ever about the possibility of having a child together. It was unplanned, it was badly timed, it was a life-long commitment and seven and a half more months of this painful hell for Eggsy. By all accounts, he shouldn't want to.

But god, he was pregnant, there was a little living thing in him that he’d helped make, and however hard it already was and was going to be, Eggsy didn't want to give it up. "...yes," he answered after several seconds of silence. 

Genuinely unsure of what Eggsy's answer would be, Harry just nodded in acknowledgement when he finally said yes. He stepped in again, hands landing on Eggsy’s hips and pulling him in a bit. "I promised you we would get through whatever happened," he reminded him. "Whatever we need to do, we'll do."

This was so, so much better than what he'd expected to happen. Eggsy dropped his head, resting his forehead on Harry's shoulder, exhaling a near shaky breath as he nodded into him.

Now that they had at least somewhat discussed the biggest issue in Eggsy's little speech, Harry turned his attention to some of the other parts of it. "Eggsy... I know I haven't been here for you lately, and there isn't any excuse for what I said to you," he said quietly, hand running along his back, "but I assure you I still love you. I don't want to leave you."

At that, Eggsy lifted his head to look at him again. It was nice now that he'd gotten it all out and Harry was still there, like he could start going back to himself. He gave a crooked if small smile, one of his hands lifting to rest against the side of Harry’s neck, fingers loosely threading into hair. "I know. I was just scared. Not really thinking. And as you can imagine, I don't have good associations with fights. I assume the worst," he added, his eyes mapping over Harry’s face.

Harry's hold on him tightened briefly at the reminder, and he bent down to kiss him softly. "I wasn't thinking much either," he admitted, pulling back.

It was like Eggsy could breathe again, and at the all too brief and gentle kiss, he pulled Harry down again to press a firmer kiss to his lips.

As their lips reconnected, Harry was reminded that it had been six long weeks since he had even touched Eggsy let alone kissed him, and he groaned, hands sliding around from his hips to his arse.

There was the fluttering in his stomach so noticeably absent before, and Eggsy reached up to pull Harry closer by his shirt. He pushed back against his hands and prodded his lips with his tongue, grateful for the momentary stop in thought; he didn't need to think for this. Kissing Harry was easy, and his body acted on its own.

Harry responded, hands tightening and his lips parting to let Eggsy's tongue slide into his mouth. He'd forgotten how good this felt, how nice it was to be so close to him, to kiss him like he couldn’t get enough.

Eggsy kissed him until he was short of breath, finally breaking away to sigh and rest against him, hands loosening his grip. "This mean you're coming back to your room now?"

Harry chuckled lightly, nodding. "Yes, this means I'm coming back to our room," he assured him.

"Good. Been weird, just me and your stuff. But I will say your shampoo smells really good," Eggsy hummed with a faint smirk, finally pulling back from him.

"I moved your things over, by the way," Harry informed him, tangling their fingers together and tugging him towards the stairs. "But I wasn't sure where to put some of it."

"Oh? Shit's been lying around for long enough," Eggsy said as he followed after him. It really had been over a year that his things had been in boxes in Harry's guest room. Mostly shoes; oh, he had missed all his shoes. 

"Yes, well, I've never been accused of being punctual," Harry pointed out, heading into the room. Some of the boxes were unpacked, but the majority had only been opened, the contents still nestled inside.

"Had no idea," Eggsy snorted to himself as he followed Harry in, going straight for the boxes and kneeling by them to finally sift through them, pulling out box after box of name brand shoes and looking at them happily.

Harry seated himself on the bed, watching the proceedings with interest. "What need could you possibly have for all those shoes?" he asked as yet another pair emerged. 

"What need could you have for all them suits?" Eggsy retorted, glancing up only to offer him a grin before it was back to the shoes, admiring a black and teal pair. "Killed me to only have two during training." 

Scoffing, Harry glanced over towards his closet, stuffed full of suits. He hadn't been much looking forward to transferring all of those. "One can hardly ever get away with wearing the same suit twice to any function of importance," he countered.

"Same thing with my shoes and my 'functions,'" Eggsy hummed, moving the boxes aside to stack them up in an available area of the room in his mental organization. "Much of a statement as suits are, guv. You should be jealous, honestly."

Harry just shook his head, running his eyes over the whole array of shoes. The room was quickly becoming a mess, but he couldn't say he minded; better a mess for this reason than any other. "Jealous of shoes? I don't think so."

Eggsy looked from the wall of boxes he was making to Harry, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

Harry had been focused on a particularly awful pair of shoes when he realized an unusual silence had fallen over the room. He glanced up when he noticed it, brow furrowing at the look Eggsy was giving him. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked. 

"Just thinking," Eggsy said innocently, returning his attention to the boxes and sliding one out. He looked at its contents, shook his head, replaced it, and pulled out another. "If I got you into sweatpants before you liked me much as you do..." 

Seeing exactly where this was going, Harry shook his head adamantly. "If you think for one second that I am trying on even a single pair of these shoes, you're mistaken."

"That's what you said with the sweatpants," Eggsy said, smiling sweetly over at him as he picked out his second favourite pair, his white winged shoes in black, and placed them on the highest place on the stack. But he didn't take them out or try to shove them at Harry; he had plenty of time to do that, and he was still just happy he was here to push him much today. He did leave it settled on the easily reachable top however.

Standing, he made his way over to the bed Harry was sitting on and climbed on, sitting with his back resting against the wall.

Harry shifted to face him, refusing to even look at the shoes he suspected Eggsy was going to try and get him into. The glimpse he'd caught out of the corner of his eye had assured him they were just as appalling as he’d feared they would be, and one of his eyebrows twitched upwards. "This is a strange tactic," he mused. 

"It’s called 'patience.' I got some sometimes," Eggsy grinned, tilting his head. "And confidence. Positive I'll get you in them. And you'll look top." It would be fairly amusing to see, after all. The sweatpants were nice, but eventually he wanted the whole thing, vibrant jacket and all, if just for the imagery. Someday.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry stayed silent, content to just look at Eggsy, propped up as he was by the wall. With a small hum, he unfolded himself, stretching out to lay on his stomach, resting his head gently on Eggsy's stomach. And if he'd thought the full impact of everything had hit him before, he was dead wrong. "We're going to have a baby," he breathed, scarcely able to believe it. 

Eggsy let his muscles relax, sighing as Harry lay his head on him. It wasn't feeling the best, but at least it was no longer painfully upset. His lips twitched. He hadn't been able to feel anything but terrified about the idea yet. Mostly, he’d been deathly afraid and marking this unborn thing in his belly as bringing the end of life as he knew it. While that was true, it didn't have to be this horrible, life-destroying thing he thought. "Yeah," he said back, just barely over a whisper. In seven short months, they would be parents.

"We're going to have a baby," Harry repeated, trying to get used to the way the words tasted on his tongue. He lifted his head, supporting himself with one arm as he pushed Eggsy's shirt up enough to expose his still flat stomach, looking down at it as if he'd be able to see whoever was forming inside it. He bent his head, lips brushing feather light over Eggsy’s skin. 

Eggsy smiled lightly, watching him with fondness and slight amusement. He wasn't showing yet, otherwise even Harry probably would have noticed by now, but even so, it was sweet.

Harry moved until he was sitting up, hovering over Eggsy and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me," he sighed, head lowering to rest on Eggsy’s shoulder. 

"Yeah, Merlin was  _ not  _ thrilled with how I handled it." Eggsy sighed, resting his hands on his stomach absently. 

That had Harry pulling back, concern written all over his face. "How did you handle it?"

"Hm..." Eggsy frowned, thinking back to what exactly he had said. It hadn’t been a calm reaction, at least. "Something like... 'No, no, no, no, no, run the test again, that can't be possible, Christ, Merlin, what am I gonna do?' A lot more scared than that, obviously," he shrugged.

Harry didn't know what to say. Eggsy already knew he was sorry, not that there were really any words to express the depth of that, but... He rested one hand lightly on Eggsy’s side, thumb sliding over the smooth skin of stomach as he leaned forward to give him a long, gentle kiss. His tongue ran lazily along his bottom lip, not asking for entry, just gathering the taste of him. 

Eyes closing as he appreciated and savored the kiss, Eggsy understood. He hadn't told Harry that to make him feel bad by any means, but he hadn't wanted to lie to him about it all either. Harry would probably hear something or other from Merlin about it anyway. His hand covered Harry's gently.

Harry didn't break the kiss until he absolutely had to breathe again, pulling away slowly. He resettled in his former spot on the bed, slightly further away from Eggsy and staring at him thoughtfully. 

Slightly disappointed when the kiss ended though his lungs had started to hurt, Eggsy looked at him, head turned, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"I was just thinking," Harry said quietly, eyes softening, "about the way you'll look trying to get down those stairs in about three months. I imagine it will be highly amusing."

Immediately, Eggsy wrinkled his nose, making a face as he looked down to his stomach, poking himself. "Gonna get all huge and waddle-y." He huffed, prodding himself again, thinking he'd probably come to hate those stairs, actually.

Harry reached out, wrapping a hand around his wrist and stopping Eggsy from poking himself further. "And I'll be sure to tell you 'yes' if you ever ask if something makes you look fat. I know how much you value honesty," he teased.

"Oh great, knew I could count on you, thanks," Eggsy huffed, grinning immediately after. "You'll have to help me and do shit for me, you know. Moody King Eggsy might decide Little One needs chocolate at two in the morning, that's all you."

"If Little One is a good child, they won't decide to drag their father out of bed at two in the morning," Harry said. He directed the words towards Eggsy's stomach even though he knew there was nothing really there to hear him yet.

"Dunno, bruv, he or she  _ is _ 50% me, seems likely to be stubborn with bad timing," Eggsy reasoned. He continued the banter, but he did feel a touch warm at Harry calling himself a father, speaking to the little bean in him. Cheesy as it was, he really was glad that if this little accident had ever happened, it was with Harry. 

Groaning, Harry rubbed at his temples with his hands. "Christ, you're right. I'm going to have to deal with two of you," he moaned dramatically. 

"And ain't you lucky," Eggsy grinned, reaching to pat his knee in mock comfort.

Harry just rolled his eyes upwards as if seeking help from some higher power. "Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll be more like me than they are you."

"Yeah? You'd prefer  _ equally _ stubborn, and late, and picky, and fussy, and..." Eggsy trailed off, tilting his head down to look pointedly at Harry with raised eyebrows. 

" _ Picky?  _ Since when have I been picky?" Harry scoffed. 

"It's the look,” Eggsy said, raising a finger accusatorially, though smirking in amusement nonetheless. "You know, that posh look of 'that don't go there.' My shoes'll be left out, or I'll forget the dishes, and I can just see the look." He imitated it dramatically, eyebrows raised, eyes half-lidded, nose scrunched, mouth pressed in a line. He sniffed once for effect and went right back to grinning. "I'll pick Little One up and hold her not her favourite way of being held and I'll get a baby version of  _ the look. _ " 

Harry unconsciously adopted the look as Eggsy was talking about it, but he reschooled his features as soon as he realized it. It didn't escape his notice that Eggsy had switched to talking about “her”, and his head tilted slightly to one side. "Do you want it to be a girl?"

Eggsy's amused grin at proving his point disappeared as Harry spoke. He blinked, rethinking what he’d said; he hadn't even noticed he’d done it. "What? Oh- I dunno," he shrugged. "Basically just raised Dais the past two years, I default to girl when I'm thinking of babies. Besides, little girls are very sweet. I know first hand that boys are awful when they wanna be," he added.

Laughing softly, Harry just shook his head. "I think you'll find little girls can be just as terrible. But you're right," he added after a brief pause. "They are very sweet."

Eggsy only hummed, shifting closer to lean on Harry with his head tilted toward him, his eyes closing. "I'll probably be switching back and forth. You know, until we know." 

Harry would have nodded, but Eggsy wouldn't have seen him anyways. He asked himself if he wanted a girl, not entirely sure of his own answer. He'd never expected to have a kid, so he'd never really given it much thought before, but he thought he might sosrt of like having a daughter. 

"Didn't even get knighted yet," Eggsy grumbled, sinking down a bit to let his head rest on Harry’s shoulder. "I'm off missions without even starting. What's Merlin gonna have me do then?" He was still far too new to know what was the usual thing to do if this situation had ever even arisen.

Head moving to rest on top of Eggsy's, Harry realized he didn't really have an answer. He'd never had to worry about going off duty for anything but an injury, and those were only temporary. That, or he’d been in a coma. Hard to do a mission when one was comatose. Having a child wasn't exactly a common thing in their line of work either, and he realized he couldn't remember the last time an agent had had to drop their knighthood in order to have one. "I'm sure he'll find something. There are several departments that don't involve field work." 

"Sounds promising," Eggsy deadpanned. "Won't be able to wear my new suit either... Changed my mind, you gotta tell me I look good all the time. Constantly. It's gonna be all I got," he snorted, touching Harry's leg idly. It'd been so long since he was allowed to touch him; subconsciously he wanted to do it just because he could, tracing nonsense patterns with a single fingertip.

Harry snorted at that. "While I'll have no problem telling you that, I think you're underselling yourself, Eggsy. Your ability to be a Kingsman isn't all you have," he assured him. 

"No," Eggsy agreed, tone thoughtful. "But if I'm at Kingsman doing paperwork or whatever five days a week at least, and wearing sweatpants or some shit because I can't fit into anything else, my husband is at least gonna lie to me and tell me I look good doing it." He tilted his head on Harry’s shoulder, enough to look up at him a bit and smile.

"We don't have a good history of me lying to you," Harry commented dryly, glancing down at him. "But I don't think I'll have to in this particular case." He moved his head, closing the tiny gap between them and kissing him briefly. "You'll look good in sweatpants even if I don't." 

"Oh, but you do." Eggsy kissed him back and sighed as he sank into the bed, resolutely ignoring the headache that was threatening him again. "Tomorrow we'll go in together, yeah? You'll get checked out, and I'll figure out what the fuck I'll be doing?" He sighed, lifting a hand to press to his forehead.

Harry glanced down at him in mild concern. "Only if you feel up to it. If not, I'll go in alone." 

"You got more than enough pain medicine in your hospital of a closet for me to be fine." Pain-wise at least. Mood swings now at least had a reason for being there, but there didn't seem to be any real way to make them stop that Eggsy knew of. 

The look melted from concerned to stern, and Harry shook his head sharply. "Drugging yourself into oblivion isn't good. For either of you," he added pointedly. 

"Been doing that to make it manageable for the last six weeks. It'll hurt even worse if I stop taking shit," Eggsy frowned, huffing.

Harry shifted slightly, the words an uncomfortable reminder that he hadn't exactly been keeping up with Eggsy for a good while. He conceded with a sigh. "Fine, I suppose you aren't going to make it any worse." 

"Then I'm coming in with you." Eggsy could always ask if there was anything else he could do, but he was stressed enough and had enough pain in every part of his body that he needed the medication still or he'd be moaning in bed all day, and that was hardly conducive to what he wanted to get done.

"I don't need you there, Eggsy," Harry said, hands curling into fists. His nails dug into his palms, angry red half-moons forming as he looked away. "I can go back on my own." 

Eggsy blinked. He was supposed to be the one with mood swings, not Harry. "...okay." He paused a moment. "Then in an unrelated trip, I'm gonna go in and talk to Merlin and chat with one of the doctors. At the same time."

For a second Harry didn't say anything, just sat looking at Eggsy. Then he relaxed, fingers uncurling, tension flowing out of his muscles. "Christ, you really are stubborn." 

"That I am," Eggsy said, a little relieved when Harry stopped tensing. "As stubborn as you, if not more."

"Then I suppose I should tell you before we go back," Harry sighed. "Since you can't be persuaded to stay at home."

Again, Eggsy blinked. Harry wasn't making sense, he thought they’d gotten everything out of the way already. "...what?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the wall next to Eggsy. "Merlin offered me Arthur's position," he said quietly. 

Immediately, Eggsy’s eyes widened, as whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't that. "Wow," he said a second later, nodding his head slowly. "That's a big deal. You gonna take it?" He worded his response carefully, avoiding inflection positive or otherwise. Obviously the position was available because Harry had killed its original occupant; that was probably still smarting, and he didn't want to say anything to set Harry off.

Harry's eyes slid closed. He didn't want it. He belonged in the field, in the hailstorm of bullets that was an escape, in the rush of adrenaline that meant success, in the quick thinking that saved so many in so short a time. But now there was Eggsy. There was Eggsy and this unborn son or daughter, both of whom needed him to come home at the end of the day. Throwing oneself into the line of fire was fine when oneself was just one. But he wasn't anymore. "Yes," he finally said, opening his eyes.

Eggsy could sense the almost resignation in Harry’s voice, as though it wasn't the answer he wanted to give. And he could see that; from what little he knew, Arthur didn't really venture out on many missions, more stayed at HQ and orchestrated the agency at large. That would seem rather pale in comparison to active field work. 

But Eggsy appreciated it all the same; selfishly, he did want Harry safe, and especially now that they were going to have a child together. "That's great, Harry. Makes you kind of a big deal, eh? Kinda glad I'll know that going in before I make an arse of myself by publicly flirting with my boss,” he teased, although it did give him an idea or two to save for later.

"It doesn't make me a 'big deal'," Harry protested, wanting to think about anything but this. He hadn't allowed himself to consider what he would be giving up as he had never planned on actually taking the position. It was going to change the way he was treated and he knew that as well as anyone, but he wanted to pretend that change didn’t exist for as long as he was allowed. 

Eggsy had no idea what Harry wanted him to say about this. The most reined-in enthusiasm and praise was met with Harry’s version of sulking. So he smiled at him, scooting down on the bed so he could lie on his back with his head nestled into the pillows. 

Harry glanced down at him, sighing. "I'm sorry. I suppose I should be a bit more grateful given that it is the highest position an agent can occupy within Kingsman. I just thought I was going to get away from all that bloody paperwork when I dropped that second job."

"Think what you think, bruv, don't apologize to me about it," Eggsy hummed, folding one arm behind his head and letting the other rest on his stomach. "Maybe you can be Action Arthur then. Passing off some work to his husband who can't go anywhere anyway so you don’t have to look at it constantly." He half-grinned at him.

"Careful, or I might take you up on that," Harry said, looking down at him. "But, unfortunately, there are only so many things I can pass off. Some things require Arthur's signature." He slid down to lay beside Eggsy, eyes half-closing.

"If you get bored enough, I'm sure Merlin'll give you something to do. But I appreciate it. Doubt you'd take it if it weren't for me and the Lil Bean in there." Eggsy also doubted he'd be alive, quite honestly, but that was not a thought he wanted to entertain. 

Actually, now that Eggsy thought about it, he never got specific numbers from Kingsman as to what their own internal loss was, if anything. Merlin had promised him a place, but he had no idea what place it was. Or if it would still be waiting a year from then, he thought with some degree of disappointment. 

Harry rested his hand on Eggsy's stomach almost absently, shrugging one shoulder. "Hardly matters. But we are going to have to come up with an actual name for the 'Little Bean' at some point."

"Eh? You don't wanna stick with 'lil bean'?" Eggsy smirked a bit, amusing himself with the various nicknames he was coming up with. 

"You're going to scar the poor thing for life with a name like that," Harry stated flatly. "It's almost as bad as something like Eggsy.

"You mean 'Gary.' Gary's bad. Eggsy is perfectly fine, thank you,” Eggsy sniffed.

Harry shook his head. "Gary is a perfectly respectable name. Eggsy, on the other hand..." 

"You know, I'm  _ pretty _ sure," Eggsy said after a pause, just as flat as Harry had been, "the one carrying the little one for nine months gets to make the final naming choice. Be nice to me, or we're having little Aventador Unwin-Hart." 

"We are  _ not _ naming our child Aventador," Harry said firmly, shuddering at the mere thought. Having the car was bad enough; there was no way he was having a kid named after it.

"Then you better be nice to me, eh?" Eggsy smiled innocently. "I think it's a nice name. Plenty of kids named Mercedes. Or Porsche. I think. You got something better, then?"

Harry looked up at the ceiling, contemplating. "I've always rather liked the name Colin. Casual enough, with just a hint of sophistication."

"Colin." Eggsy said it to feel how it would be to say it, then shrugged. "It's alright. Bit goldfish-y."

"Goldfish-y?" Harry scoffed. "It's much better than  _ Aventador. _ "

"Says you," Eggsy smirked, then looked up at the ceiling as he pursed his lips. "I dunno what I really like," he said thoughtfully, "Maybe keep up that alliteration with Hazel or Harper. Know you're a fan of that shit," he teased.

Not quite done being indignant, Harry just huffed. "Thank god we have time, that's all I can say."

"Or Ulric. Or Umberto. Ulric Unwin... Lil Bean sounding better about now?" It was nice how easy it was to slip back into casual teasing and joking after the panic of the day, the fight of the morning, the absence of the previous weeks. Teasing Harry was one of his favourite things to do, after all.

Groaning, Harry draped an arm over his eyes. "Perhaps I should be praying for a daughter after all." 

Eggsy chuckled, rolling onto his side to press a sideways kiss to Harry’s lips as his eyes were covered. "I'll be serious about it when it's further along. But fuck, we are having a baby." Another kiss, lingering and gentler this time.

Harry didn't turn his head until Eggsy started the second kiss, hand falling away from his eyes, dropping back to his side. 

The idea of children had never been in the front of Harry’s mind, but now it was consuming him. There was a tiny person forming inside Eggsy, half him, half his husband, and he couldn't quite wrap his mind around that. As the kiss continued, he shifted fully onto his side, cupping Eggsy's face. 

Quite content to kiss him, Eggsy lay back, touching Harry's side gently. Eventually, he did pull back, letting his eyes remain closed as he lay there. They were in for a lot of changes and while there was a lot to do, all he wanted was to lie there with Harry right then, not doing any of it.

This would necessitate change, that much was certain. Their house wasn't exactly child friendly nor did Harry have even one thing people generally needed to take care of children. But they had time. They would get there. For now he was going to lay here, tilt his head forwards till it rested gently against Eggsy's, and sigh softly. 

Eggsy wanted to say it, but he didn't, he just let himself feel it. He burrowed into the bed, curling up under the covers.

"Going to bed already?" Harry teased lightly, eyes opening as he curled up.

"We haven't moved in a while and it's comfy, quit your judging." Eggsy cracked his eyes open, lips twitching. 

Harry couldn't resist stealing another kiss. "Go to sleep, Eggsy," he murmured quietly, moving to get out of the bed.

"Where're you going?" Eggsy blinked, though he made no move to get out of the bed himself. It really was quite comfortable, and sleep sounded nice.

"Just to the kitchen," Harry assured him. "I was on my way there when you came home." Food had been forgotten in favor of more important issues, but his stomach was reminding him that it was indeed necessary.

"That is important," Eggsy said seriously, grabbing a pillow and holding it to his chest as he wiggled under the covers. "Mmm, alright. I've lost the will to move, so I'll be here," he smirked, letting his eyes close again.

Harry paused in the doorway, half turning to look back at him. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, then he was making his way down to the kitchen, thoughts whirling through his head, mind refusing to settle.

Eggsy, on the other hand, was more than willing to let his mind go blank, having been fretting and worrying and over-thinking all day. Now that he had some semblance of safety back, the security of Harry being there back in his subconscious, he was able to relax, his mind quieting after buzzing and buzzing for what felt like forever. He hadn't had a bad night's rest, no worse than any other during the fallout of V-Day, but he slipped into a light sleep all the same.


	29. A Mother

Harry ate quietly, trying to puzzle out just what he was going to do. Becoming Arthur would certainly be advantageous in some respects, but not so much in others. And yet it didn't seem like he had much of a choice. He had healed from the events at the church and all that ensued afterwards, but he was getting older, and recovery was no longer as easy as it once had been.

His age brought with it another point of contention. Eggsy was young, right at the age when most people started having children. Harry was far from that. Gritting his teeth, he tried to shove those thoughts away, mentally insisting they didn't matter. If it didn't bother Eggsy, then it shouldn't bother him.

Agitated, Harry gave up trying to really enjoy his meal, making his way back up the stairs a moment later. 

He settled somewhat as he came upon the sight of Eggsy resting peacefully, pillow cradled to his chest. For a brief moment he considered going back to sleeping in the guest bedroom in order to keep from disturbing him, but discarded the idea almost immediately. He doubted that Eggsy would appreciate that much. Instead, he slipped into the bed as carefully as he could, trying not to jostle him too much.

When the foreign weight pushed down on the bed, Eggsy's eyes snapped open, muscles tensing. It took staring at the shape for a moment or two before his brain caught up with his eyes and he recognized it to be Harry, his muscles relaxing shortly thereafter. Eyes drifting closed again, he hummed in greeting, re-burrowing himself into the comforter to get comfortable after his sudden tensing. He was far easier to wake now as opposed to when he’d left for Kingsman, quicker to panic when woken, but he wasn't concerned about it much.

Harry felt a twinge of guilt for waking him, but it dissipated when he resettled, eyes closing again. "Go back to sleep," he whispered, trailing his hand lightly down the side of Eggsy’s body after he'd gotten settled in himself. 

"Mmm... that'll be easy if you keep that up..." Eggsy slurred, not far from sleep anyway, his cheek smooshed against a pillow and grogginess keeping him from enunciating even his normal amount. 

Laughing lightly, Harry did indeed keep it up, letting his hand get as low as Eggsy's hip before traveling back up slowly, almost lazily.

Humming lowly in contentment, much like the purring of a cat, Eggsy melted just that little bit more under Harry’s fingers, sighing as he drifted back off to sleep.

It wasn't quite so easy for Harry to join him. He was slightly on edge about sleeping with another person again after having spent so long on his own, especially with the potential for nightmares. He wasn't afraid of scaring Eggsy off, they were well past that stage now, but he still didn't want to hurt him. Eventually, he fell into a sort of fitful sleep, hand falling back to his side. 

-

The next day rolled around and Eggsy woke up suddenly, going from dead asleep to perfectly awake in a few seconds. His eyes opened into darkness, his sleep cycle thrown off, and he tightened into a fetal position. His first thought was recognition as to why he was suddenly awake. Without sparing the time to think, his mind a dull sort of blank, he rolled over and off of the bed, shuffling over to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him as quietly as he could, though he couldn’t remember exactly why; he wasn't consciously remembering Harry was in bed with him again.

It was the nausea that was killing Eggsy. He didn't like it, obviously, and it hit him in waves every now and then which was entirely too unpredictable and annoying. Bending over the toilet, he clutched it as his eyes squeezed shut, hoping he could let it pass without actually throwing up again. Harry or no Harry, now that he wasn't in threat of having a panic attack over the pregnancy (as much), he really did need to talk to a doctor about this, make sure it was normal. Maybe the doctor could prescribe him something to make it stop, or at least easier to deal with.

Groaning, Eggsy retched, shaking, and tried to swallow down the anger he felt swelling up in him. He hated feeling so weak.

The fight to keep back the sick failed.

Alerted by the sudden movement, and not having fallen into a restful sleep anyways, Harry woke when Eggsy stirred, not bothering to open his eyes. He was probably just shifting in his sleep or rolling over to fall back into it. But they did flick open when Eggsy didn't just settle back in, instead rolled out of the bed and shuffled towards the bathroom.

Harry sat up as the door closed behind him, brow furrowing slightly as soon as he heard retching noises. Throwing back the covers he headed over to it, rapping the door lightly with his knuckles. "Eggsy? Are you alright?" 

"Fucking wonderful," he snapped, scowling to himself with his eyes shut as he sat back on his feet. "It’s exactly what I wanted to do with my morning," he grumbled, gripping the sink’s countertop to get shakily to his feet. He wet a towel with cold water and rubbed it on his face to feel a little better, wiping away the cold sweat that had broken out on his forehead. 

Harry couldn't help it. One corner of his mouth twitched up into a small smile at Eggsy's indignant snark. At least there was a door between them so Eggsy couldn't see. Given what little he knew about pregnancy, he figured he was in for quite a few more months of this, not that he thought handling a moody Eggsy would be too difficult. "It's not quite morning yet. You could still come back to bed."

"Nah, fuck that," Eggsy addressed the door, voice muffled by the towel. "Lil Bean says I'm up, no way I'm going back to sleep after this." Nor would he want to, gross as he was feeling now. 

"From the sounds of it, I'm not sure I'm surprised," Harry commented dryly. "Do you feel like eating anything?"

"I just hurled in here, course I don’t," Eggsy huffed again, turning around to look at himself in the mirror. He looked paler than normal, and he scowled, pulling at the skin beneath his eyes. "...wait no," he said after a pause, lips pressing together. "Bacon. I want bacon." 

Lips twitching in amusement a second time, Harry managed to suppress a chuckle. "I'll get that started then," he said, moving to get dressed before heading downstairs.

Eggsy squinted at the door a moment, fairly sure Harry was being amused back there rather than properly afraid of an angry Eggsy like he should have been.

Eggsy followed suit a few minutes behind Harry, cleaning himself up and scrubbing his teeth a bit harder than usual. While he had noticed the shoes last night, he forgot to look at the clothes now actually in the bedroom. He didn't have to put on the same clothing from yesterday or go rummage in the guest room while Harry was out; it was pretty nice. 

Dressing in his usual jeans and shirt with a hat, green this time, and feeling grateful he could wear them while he could, Eggsy descended the stairs a few minutes after Harry.

Harry had utilized those few moments alone, and he already had several strips of bacon laid out in a pan, grease popping. "Feeling better?" he asked, prodding at a strip.

The smell hit Eggsy before anything else, knees weakening and stomach grumbling. He shuffled over nose-first and stood behind Harry, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in his back. The grease popping wasn't ideal for that, so he lowered his arms more so than usual, safely wrapping them around his lower waist and hip area instead. When the question registered, he made a noise like a moan of longing at the scent, nodding into him.

Harry let one of his hands fall to run over Eggsy's arms, trailing his fingertips along his skin. With the other, he turned over the strips that had been sizzling the longest, a few them approaching done. "You'll have to let go of me so I can get a plate, Eggsy," he said quietly. 

Eggsy groaned again, this time in annoyance and reluctance, and merely tightened his grip, not wanting to let go. He had Harry in his arms and the scent of bacon filling his nose; why on earth would he let go if he had everything he could possibly want? But fine, Harry had a point, bacon could not be enjoyed if it could not get to him, so he huffed and released him, moving instead to lean on his usual place at the counter, out of the way.

Pressing his lips together to keep back his third smile of amusement, Harry moved to grab a plate. By the time he'd been released and dug one out of the cupboard, the first few strips were ready. He slid them onto the plate and handed it off to Eggsy. 

"Mmmmmm." Eggsy took the plate, sniffing it happily and taking it from him. "You are the best," he sighed, nodding seriously as he picked up a piece between his fingers. Having just come out of the skillet, it was very hot and burned him, but he didn't even care. He immediately popped a piece in his mouth.

Harry watched all that with an eyebrow inching steadily upwards. Apparently, Eggsy’s cravings were pretty strong, and he reminded himself to take Eggsy along to the shops so they could buy whatever he thought he might need. 

After eating a piece, Eggsy felt much better. Oh, his head still hurt, his still stomach bothered him, and he still kind of felt gross, but he had bacon, and that was what was important. "Oh," he said as soon as he'd finished, blinking as he looked at Harry like he was just now seeing him. "You don't have to be up with me. You could’ve gone back to sleep, I didn't mean to wake you. Tried not to, actually." 

Harry just shrugged, turning his attention to the remaining bacon. "It's not long till I would have gotten up anyways, and you were hungry."

"I'm almost always hungry, to be fair," Eggsy added with a smirk, but nodded, picking up and munching another piece. "Thanks, though."

Harry just shrugged and reached over to steal a piece from Eggsy's plate, replacing it a second later with one from the pan.

Eggsy smiled at him, feeling rather fond despite himself. Now that he was properly awake, he could see he was being a bit all over the place. He didn't really enjoy it, particularly now that he was self-aware enough to know it was happening, and his jaw twitched as he mentally shook himself. "So, when we going in? Know it's early and all," he shrugged, continuing to pick at the food.

"As soon as you're ready. Lord knows Merlin never leaves the place, and there are always medical staff around. I'll be able to get my physical no matter when we go," Harry said, focusing on sliding the last few bacon strips onto his plate and turning to collect the grease once that was done. 

"In that case, I'll be ready pretty soon. Was gonna ask about that at some point, actually. Merlin is there constantly, does he even have a home?" Eggsy snorted, watching Harry move about.

Harry nodded. "He does. I followed him there once, to make sure." 

"Hmmm, I'll believe you this once, but I'm not even certain he sleeps yet." Eggsy hopped down and took the dishes from Harry to wash them himself, as Harry had gone to the trouble of making the bacon because of his whim. Dishes, grabbing his shoes and a jacket, and he'd be ready to head in to work and accost the doctors there about what he needed to be doing to actually be somewhat responsible over the little bean in his stomach. And to find out what he was going to be doing with himself until he popped. Though that part Eggsy wanted to drag his feet about. He wasn't done being disappointed he was banned from field work yet.

Harry relinquished the dishes, taking Eggsy's usual habit of leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. "We'll have to find some time to get everything we're going to need," he sighed, wondering when exactly that time would be. He had missed months of being Arthur, months where the world was in disarray and Kingsman in desperation. He didn't suspect he'd have an easy time of it.

"I'll have the time," Eggsy shrugged, focused on washing away the grease from the skillet, eyes narrowed as he thought. "Depending on what Merlin wants me to do, of course, but I won't have the same unpredictability as you, I'm guessing. And failing that, I can ask mum to help out where I c-- Oh fuck, mum," he sighed, wrinkling his nose. At least Harry had plenty of alibis now to not be seeing her, as excited as she would be about it all, and upset that she had missed out on weeks of being excited about it after his being away for so long.

That reminder froze Harry. Michelle. He'd forgotten about Michelle. More specifically, he'd forgotten that they would have to tell her he’d knocked up her son. "Shit," he muttered, eyes closing.

"Yeah," Eggsy sighed, stopping and heaving a sigh before continuing to scrub. "Don't worry about it, I'll take care of her. Spare you  _ two  _ emotional Unwins at once." He glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye to smirk faintly.

Shaking his head, Harry's eyes flicked back open. "No, I should probably be there for that little confession," he said. "There aren't many excuses that would make up for missing it, and it would only come up the next time I saw her. Better to get it over with at the outset and with you to help me."

"If you say so. Sooner rather than later then, because I can't ask for her help if she don't know." The dishes finished, Eggsy set them down and dried his hands on the front of his shirt, feeling his stomach as he did so. Now that he knew about the pregnancy and the inevitable baby bump, he was a little more self-aware, feeling the subtle softness there as opposed to the hard muscles there had been before.

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. "Sooner as in now, then. Once we get to Kingsman, I don't know how long it will be before I can leave again," he sighed. 

"Oh." Eggsy blinked, his nose wrinkling at the thought of bursting in on his mother early in the morning to relay that he was pregnant. But Harry was right, he supposed.  _ Arthur _ was bound to have his hands full for quite some time. "Yeah, alright."

With that decided, Harry pushed off the counter, figuring that spending another few minutes on his appearance couldn't hurt. "You can leave the dishes for now. We don't know how long we'll be at your mother's."

Nodding, Eggsy pulled back from the sink, rubbing the back of his neck before pulling out his phone to send her a warning message that they were going to come over. "Gonna be a long day," he muttered, half to himself. 

Harry caught the tail end of the statement on his way up the stairs, silently agreeing with Eggsy. Suffering through a physical and formally accepting Arthur's position was bad enough; adding in his mother-in-law on top of that was less than appealing. Wondering how she would react occupied his thoughts as he shrugged into a suit jacket and and made his way back downstairs.

Eggsy was waiting for him by the door, hands in his pockets and leaning against the wall with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. His mother had at least responded quickly enough, meaning she was awake and now expecting them. He really wasn't looking forward to this; he had no idea how she was going to take it.

When Harry reappeared, Eggsy cracked an eye open and pushed up from the wall, giving him a tired sort of grin, making himself come back to a good mood. "I'll drive then, yeah? I promise only minimal techno pop."

With only the slightest twitch of his lips, Harry reached for the keys. He kept his fingers curled around them for a bit as if considering not passing them over, but then he tossed them to Eggsy with a shrug. "As long as it's only minimal."

Catching them, Eggsy kept up his grin, a little more spark in it this time. "You know. Or not." And he pocketed them, opening up the front door and starting for the car.

Well, it was too late to snatch the keys back. Harry followed along after him, slipping into the passenger seat, already busy with figuring out what they were going to say to Michelle. 

Eggsy was quiet on the drive there, choosing mostly to stick to playing with his music, driving nearly on autopilot as he'd driven that path so many times. When he pulled up to the curb near the cluster of apartments, he killed the engine and turned to Harry, somewhere between curious and thoughtful. 

"Time to face your mother," Harry muttered, glancing up at the flats stretching before them. He was becoming increasingly aware of his age again, and he didn't think that factor would escape Michelle's notice either.

In that moment of looking at him, faced with knowing they were about to go talk to his mother yet again, Eggsy realized he had only kissed him that one time since the ordeal of that day, and quite frankly, that was unacceptable. Without saying anything, he leaned over in the car to touch Harry's face with his fingers to tilt it toward him as he leaned in and kissed him.

Normally, Harry would have liked this, normally, this would have been good. But this was not 'normally'. So he pulled back after only a second or two, not allowing it go deeper, forcing himself not to reach for Eggsy, not to grab at him, because if he did that, they would be stuck in this car for quite a bit longer than he intended. 

When Harry didn't reciprocate as Eggsy had hoped he would, he frowned, pulling back and letting his hand fall away. He knew Harry was unhappy, not looking forward to this or to Kingsman, but he had thought as all other times he would at least be somewhat relaxed and supported by it. And besides, he didn't know when they would have the time and capacity to do this again; he had enough tact to know not to kiss Harry at Kingsman, and he would be busy for quite some time.

Still, Eggsy wasn't about to make him (memories of his snapping at Harry just yesterday for attempting it flooded over it), so he sighed to himself and pulled the keys from the ignition, sliding out of the driver's seat.

Harry could tell he'd disappointed Eggsy, but he was feeling distinctly uncomfortable, and he couldn't shake the feeling enough to enjoy it. He did reach out to entwine their fingers, however, once they'd headed up the stairs. That much he could handle. Reaching out, he took a deep breath and rapped on the door, letting his hand fall back to his side. 

Eggsy took his hand and squeezed it lightly, taking a small amount of the reassurance he'd sought in a kiss. When their hands dropped at the door, he schooled his face into a smile, remembering that, on top of everything, what was most important was keeping up the same lies he'd been telling her. And praying that things would go right enough for Harry to be able to follow the lead of some of the lies that he hadn't had time to fill him in on.

Sure enough, Michelle answered within a minute, having obviously been expecting them since Eggsy's notice. "Eggsy!" she beamed, excited as ever to see him.

"Hey, mum." Eggsy allowed her to pull him into a hug before heading into the flat, followed by Harry, and hovering at the entryway as she shut the door behind them. "Sorry for the short notice. We just didn't have another time we could come over."

"Oh, it's fine, I needed to be getting up and ready anyway. I've got to get Dais to daycare in an hour," she smiled, her hair very frizzy, make-up not yet on. 

Eggsy felt a bit guilty; he must have woken her. 

"Harry, it's nice to see you," she added, though she made no move to approach him. "Eggsy told me you had a bit of an accident because of, well, you know," she said, her eyes glancing off to a door and back again as her smile faltered. "But I see you've recovered, yeah?" Her smile flickered back a bit, head tilted as she looked at him appraisingly. 

As awkward as meeting Michelle usually was, it was made so much worse by what Harry knew was coming. He hovered behind Eggsy, feeling strangely protective though he knew she would never do anything to hurt her son. It wasn't Michelle he was worried about, not once he caught the sound of rustling from the bedroom.

His attention was momentarily arrested when she spoke to him, and he nodded. "Yes, but I can assure you I'm fine now, thank you. Eggsy was more than attentive to my needs," he said, voice dropping a bit, hand drifting to rest in the small of Eggsy’s back.

The sounds from the bedroom only grew louder, and seconds later Dean emerged, looking none too happy with being disturbed. "The fuck is going on?" he muttered, scratching at his stubble.

Michelle was about to reply, to follow up with more questions about V-Day, when the door to the bedroom opened and her husband poked out, her train of thought completely gone. "Oh, hey, babe," she said, a little confused that he was up. "Eggsy and Harry decided to pop by."

The practiced smile of a fake good mood Eggsy had practiced fell away as he heard his step-father, dread tugging at him. He didn't want to make this announcement to his mother, let alone his mother and Dean. Dean was sure to make some tactless comments about it, especially given he'd already done so when Eggsy hadn't even been pregnant yet. 

"Can see that, and they weren't quiet about it neither," Dean sneered, casting an ungrateful look their way. "Too damn early for a visit," he muttered. "So what the hell do you want, money or something?"

Harry forced his face to remain impassive, something he'd gotten rather good at over the years. Even so, he shifted closer to Eggsy, nearly pressing up against his back.

Eggsy was grateful to have Harry there now; in addition to the support of feeling him there, he was hoping his presence would at least force Dean to keep to himself for the most part. "Do I gotta have a reason to see my mum?" he asked mildly, though he knew perfectly well that really wasn't a good answer.

Michelle frowned; Eggsy had mentioned in his text that they were coming over to tell her something, and it wasn't the best sign that he was reluctant to do so in front of Dean. 

Dean only sneered in response to that, not even bothering to shake his head. "Go on then, spit it out. Anything you wanna say in front of Michelle, you can say in front of me." 

Well, it didn't much look like he was going to go away. So Eggsy turned instead to his mother, disregarding Dean, and said point blank, "Mum, I'm pregnant."

Michelle’s eyes widened, shock written plainly on her face as she looked from Eggsy, to his stomach, and up to Harry. She had never really brought up the subject of their having children. As soon as Eggsy had gotten engaged to a man twice his age, she’d assumed that was out of the question. Eggsy was prime age to have them, it was true, but Harry...

She knew she should be saying something along the lines of 'congratulations,' or 'that's so great, sweetheart,' but she just couldn't, not yet. The only words in her head were along the lines of 'this is a mistake.'

"About a month and a half," Eggsy added in the silence, keeping back the urge to take Harry's hand or something.

Harry didn't miss the look Michelle flashed between him and Eggsy; it wasn't difficult to guess the reason behind it. This had been a terrible, terrible idea, but it wasn't like there was any other choice. Michelle had to find out some time.

A silence fell after Eggsy's proclamation until Dean burst out cackling. "You've gotta be joking, Muggsy," he laughed. "That, or it ain't the geezer's," he mused, eyes drifting between the two of them suggestively.

The implication alone made Eggsy angry -- maybe a bit angrier than it normally would have, but not by much -- and he finally did look at Dean in agitation as he snapped, "No, not joking." He turned to his mother again instead, hoping she would be able to give him... something more than laughing in his face about it.

Michelle recovered herself, taking a few steps towards him and reaching to take Eggsy’s hands in hers. She looked into his eyes and felt sudden guilt, feeling responsible for all the horrible turns his life had taken and how she'd set him on this path from her decisions. It was her fault he was in this, and as she looked at him and saw Lee in his features, she felt she had let her son down. He could have been decorated in the military or on the Olympic gymnastics team, but because of her and her choices and what she'd forced on him, he was a married tailor-to-be, who was going to have a child that she was trying not to think he would be raising alone, but she couldn't quite help. Harry was older, Harry worked too often, Harry wasn't going to be the supportive spouse she'd wanted for him.

“I'll help you out with it, yeah?" She smiled, at least feeling somewhat less bad about the situation as Eggsy didn't seem to be upset about the pregnancy itself. "I kept some of Dais's stuff, and I got some of those books on the dos and don'ts of being pregnant, you can have them too."

Eggsy just gave her a tired sort of smile. 

Wanting to slide an arm around Eggsy's waist, Harry restrained himself to resting it lightly on his shoulder instead, not sure how a more intimate gesture would be received given their current situation. "I know I, at least, would be very grateful for any help you could offer," he said earnestly, casting a slightly worried look at Eggsy. "I know next to nothing about how to go about dealing with this." 

Michelle's gut reaction to that was a very snippy, 'of course you don't,' feeling protective over Eggsy and the unborn grandchild he was carrying. Of course Harry didn't know anything and hadn't bothered to find out; this baby was clearly unplanned, a fault she placed on him. But she didn't say any of that out loud, of course, having enough restraint to know not to let her worry and hesitance out that way. Especially not as Eggsy seemed to have feelings for Harry and planned to keep the child. She could hold onto that and channel it more constructively into helping Eggsy with whatever she could to make the pregnancy as smooth as possible. She of course knew first hand how much it could suck.

Glancing first at Harry, and then back to Eggsy, Michelle squeezed his hands, smiling what she hoped was supportively. "I'd be glad to. Whenever you need me."

“Thanks, mum," Eggsy sighed, feeling a bit of the weight on him lift knowing he did indeed have her in reserve to help him in the coming months when he no doubt would need it. "Goin to see the doctor later today, actually, to make sure everything's fine. And maybe get something to help with how sick I'm feeling," he added, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a faint hint of a smile.

"Lemon water," Michelle said, nodding slowly, remembering her own troubles with morning sickness. "Actually, smelling real lemon at all helps, strangely enough."

"Wouldn't've thought of that," Eggsy said, smile coming back a little more. He squeezed her hands gently before dropping them in favour of reaching up to touch Harry's hand on his shoulder instead.

Harry absently brushed his thumb over Eggsy's fingers, adding lemons to his mental shopping list. It had been steadily growing throughout the day as he thought of more and more things they would need in order to effectively deal with a baby. And all this before it was even born. He wasn't worried about money, of course, but this was one hell of a responsibility they were taking on.

“You said you had some books on the subject?" Harry prompted Michelle. "I'm afraid I haven't had much time to find anything that might be helpful myself. We found out just yesterday." 

Michelle’s eyes widened a little. "Yesterday?" That at least gave him a bit more of a free-pass on his lack of preparedness. When she’d found out about Eggsy, she had gone through a solid week of freaking out before buckling down and doing the proper research with his father about what needed to really be done. "Er, yes, yeah, I think I've got some still on prenatal preparation. You can come get some of the others when you’re further along." 

She smiled between them, taking a few steps back and toward the bedroom she shared with Dean. "I'll grab them now, just a mo," and she slid past Dean with a hand gently on his shoulder to go get them.

Eggsy glanced up at Harry over his shoulder, half-shrugging one of his shoulders and giving him a look that said 'well, it could've been worse.'

Harry attempted to give Eggsy a smile in return, but it failed halfway through and was really more of a grimace. The look Michelle had given him earlier still lay heavy in his mind, but at least she was more than willing to help. That was something. He wasn't sure if he'd expected it or not, but he was definitely going to take it.

Dean's eyes tracked Michelle as she left the room, flicking back to Eggsy once she'd disappeared. "Better watch he don't leave you now, Muggsy," he sneered. "Ain't gonna have your looks to go on after this. Go all soft around the middle, you will, could get some nasty stretch marks too." 

Eggsy looked over to Dean almost unwillingly, his lips pressed together in annoyance. One of the things he hated most about him was that he could pick out some of his pressure points and jab at them in just the right way to provoke him. "Got one or two other things to worry about right now, actually."

And, damn him, that really was one of them. Eggsy’s body was going to go through massive changes, and he was going to look that up when he had the time later that night. He was very proud of his body, and he wanted to take every step possible to keep from wrecking it.

The hand Harry had resting on Eggsy's shoulder tightened slightly at Dean’s comment, but he kept his mouth shut about it. Getting into a fight with Dean wouldn't do anything to endear him to Michelle, and it wouldn't beat the asshole out of him either. But, Christ, would it be satisfying. He might not know much about pregnancy but he wasn't completely oblivious to some of the effects it would have, and he couldn't be bothered to care about that. It wasn't Eggsy's looks he'd fallen in love with.

Michelle returned shortly, three books in her arms. "Here, these should be good for the next few months at least," she said with a smile, bringing them over and handing them to Eggsy who took them into the crook of his arm with a, “thank you.” 

When Michelle came back, Harry heaved an internal sigh of relief, glancing down at the books and then back at her gratefully. "I appreciate what you're doing for us," he said quietly. 

She looked at him with a small smile, nodding her understanding. "I'll only be a text away."

Eggsy would have said something, backed Harry up or thanked his mother again, but he was a bit distracted at the moment. He didn't want to be, but he was a bit stuck on the visual, stretch marks especially etched in his mind. Absently, his free hand moved to his stomach, feeling it as though making sure it was still flat. "We just came by to let you know in person," he said, somewhat abruptly, very much ready to go talk to the doctor. "We gotta get going."

Somewhat surprised by the abruptness with which Eggsy cut in (normally  _ he _ was the one cutting their visits short), Harry let his hand fall from Eggsy’s shoulder. "I'll keep that in mind," he said with a small nod to Michelle and not even a glance at Dean.

Harry turned to open the door for Eggsy, following him out and closing the door behind them. "Are you alright?" he asked him, concern thick in his voice.

Eggsy shouldn't be using what he'd been trained to do to lie to Harry, obviously. And there was always a chance that Harry, being trained as well and with more experience at learning to discover someone who was faking it, could tell, but still. He wasn't ready to discuss this. "Started feeling sick again," he sighed, giving him a tired smile instead. "Ready to get actual medicine for it. And the awkwardness in there was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I was ready to go." He shrugged, starting down the stairs back to the car.

For a second Harry lingered at the top of the landing, eyes narrowed. He suspected he wasn't quite getting the whole story, but he didn't want to push him. When Eggsy was ready to tell him what actually had him so worked up, he would, and Harry would just have to wait until then. That didn't mean he had had to like it. 

Harry followed after him to the car, making for the driver's side and holding his hand out for the keys. 

Eggsy hesitated, considering fighting him on it, but no, if he was following through on his nauseated plea, it probably wouldn't be good to drive. He pulled the keys out of his pocket, handed them over, and walked instead to the passenger seat, climbing in and actually taking a look at the books in his lap.

Harry slid into the seat, starting up the car and heading towards Kingsman's headquarters. He was half-dreading getting there, knowing what awaited him. 

Following his lead in not talking, Eggsy flipped through the pages of the books without actually reading them, mostly just thinking to himself. He was trying not to, really trying, but he was starting to panic again about it. This was a lot of flipping, and he was getting annoyed at himself about it, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying anything as they drove to work, not even his music on to distract him.

Even just watching Eggsy from the corner of his eye, Harry could see tension in every line of his body. He couldn't blame Eggsy for being stressed, not with the situation they were in, but he couldn't sit back and do nothing about it either.

When they reached Kingsman, he parked the car. "Eggsy," he said, just loud enough to get his attention. 

When the car stopped, Eggsy looked up from the books, closing them and blinking; the drive had taken no time and entirely too long simultaneously. Harry grabbed his attention shortly after, and he looked over to him, eyebrows raised curiously.

"I realize," Harry started, finding this more difficult to say than he'd thought it would be, "that you're worried about this, and rightly so. But I am going to do whatever I can to help you, I promise." He reached out, took Eggsy's hand in his, and threaded their fingers together.

Eggsy held on to Harry instinctively as his eyes followed downward to look at their laced hands. He half-smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I know. And as soon as I figure out what that is, I'll let you know," he added as he looked up at him, still almost smiling.

Harry couldn't do much more than nod. He leaned in slightly, eyes flicking to Eggsy's lips but not quite reaching them. Despite his earlier reluctance, he was more than willing to kiss him now, if only to provide some sort of reassurance. 

Eggsy had only planned on letting go of Harry’s hand and making his way inside, waiting up for him that night when he was inevitably late getting home and quelling his worry over somehow fucking up the living thing growing in his stomach by burying his face into his shoulder as he slept. But Harry leaned in, and though it took him a second or two to work out what he was doing thanks to the buzzing in the back of his mind, Eggsy wasn't going to pass up any modicum of support while he was actively worried. He leaned in the leftover distance, lightly pressing their lips together.

It wasn't a deep kiss, or a long one, but it was a promise that Harry intended to keep. When he drew back, his eyes flickered back open, and he studied Eggsy's face for a moment before he gave him a slight nod. "I'll drop you off at medical before I find Merlin." 

Setting the books down at his feet, Eggsy nodded back, rubbing at his face. "Okay. And tell him that when you’re done, we should probably switch, because I need to talk to him too."

"I'll tell him," Harry agreed, opening the door and getting out of the car. He waited until Eggsy came around, walking with him to the medical bay.


	30. An Arthur

Eggsy wasn't in any particular hurry to be told what he could and couldn't do, so he hauled himself out of the car and walked alongside Harry a bit slower than his usual strutting pace, hands as ever in his pockets. It was almost vaguely amusing how familiar the walk to the medbay was now, with how often he'd had to do it. And he was rather sick of it by now. It never accompanied good things.

They reached the medbay and Eggsy flagged down a doctor, saying he needed to have a quick word. He bade Harry goodbye, giving him a small smile and a, “good luck” before disappearing into one of the examination rooms behind the doctor.

Once Eggsy had been absorbed into the flow of the medical bay, Harry struck off on his own to go find Merlin. If he wasn't in his office, he'd have to call him through his glasses, because the man could be anywhere. But when Harry rapped on his door, there was a sharp, “come in” and he so he did, Merlin glancing up as he walked in.

"Harry. Good to have you back," he said, standing and moving to settle a hand on his shoulder. He studied Harry’s face critically, not liking the look of it but knowing it would only get worse with what was about to come. "I assume you've made a decision one way or another."

Harry nodded acquiescence. When the magician's hand fell from his shoulder, he made his way over to the desk where a bottle of brandy sat next to a couple of glasses, pouring himself a drink. He didn't speak until he'd drained one and poured a second, sitting in Merlin's chair as it was the only one available. Merlin’s office was spartan; apparently a second chair wasn't considered a necessity.

Merlin didn't comment on either that or the drink, just turned to face him, arms folded over his chest. "So that's a yes?" he asked quietly.

"Yes."

It wouldn't have been Harry's first choice, or even his second, and Merlin knew that as well as anyone. Still, the organization needed a leader and it was clear to those of them that remained that Harry would make a good one. "Now for the matter of Eggsy. I've been considering what we can do with him given his circumstances. I've also been considering reopening the position of Excalibur."

Harry glanced up sharply at that, mouth opening.

But Merlin didn't give him the chance to speak, holding up a hand to forestall him. "Hear me out. It's the perfect position for him, Harry, and you need an Excalibur. That's non-negotiable. You've missed so much time already, and there's more coming in every day; you won't be able to handle this on your own. Everything will still pass through you, of course, but there are some things that don’t require your direct involvement that Eggsy will be more than capable of handling. It will keep him out of the field and at your side, with the added benefit of leaving actual knight positions open for able-bodied agents. God knows we need as many of those as we can get." He fell silent, staring at Harry and letting him mull over the proposition.

Harry tipped the second measure of brandy down his throat, considering. "Reinstate the position. We'll offer it to Eggsy." 

-

Eggsy hated being scrutinized by a doctor. It fell under the same category as being questioned by police or disciplined at school. It just felt like being interrogated, like he'd done something wrong and he was getting a talking-to about his actions. And sitting on the cold, paper-lined table in a flimsy paper gown and having two fully-clothed doctors in lab coats standing two heads taller than him, confer with one another about what his body was doing was maddening. It made him itchy, feeling like a scene from the movies where the interrogatee was handcuffed to a table in a dark room with a single bulb swinging back and forth on a chain above him.

"Alright, Mr... Unwin, you're about six and a half weeks along then, are you?" The female doctor with her blonde hair in a ponytail spoke to him rhetorically, glancing through the glasses perched on her nose at the clipboard in her hands.

Eggsy wanted to roll his eyes. "That's what you guys said yesterday, yeah." He didn't bother to correct his name; it was close enough, at least.

"Have you been taking medication for anything?" She looked up at him with a frown, removing her glasses and sticking them on top of her head.

"Eh... Yeah, before I knew and all, been taking Acetaminophen pretty much all the time. Got fucked up from the last mission, I'm sure you have the post-mission diagnostics shit there."

She nodded, scribbling down something before continuing. "Any alcohol or drug use?"

"Nah. Know I'm not supposed to mix drugs and alcohol, so I've been laying off. Might've had three beers total over the six weeks."

More scribbles. "And how much stress would you say you're under?"

Eggsy didn't answer that immediately. The answer was quite a lot. Up until recently he'd been stressed a fuck ton with V-Day, Harry, and his various pains which he now knew of course were due to pregnancy. But he didn't want to discuss any of that, and frankly he didn't feel as though it had any medical bearing. "Dealt with everyone going homicidal, didn't I? But that was awhile ago, been fine since."

Scribbles. "You've never been pregnant before."

He snorted. "Obviously."

"Hm... Alright, Gary, I'm going to draw some blood for testing, and then we'll do a pelvic exam, and I'll try and see if we can hear the heartbeat and just make sure everything is going well, alright?" She spoke politely and professionally, a practiced smile on her face as she went to go get the syringe and blood sample kit, as though completely unaware of how shocked Eggsy became.

"Heartbeat..." he murmured to himself, lifting a hand to his forehead and running fingers through his hair in disbelief. He didn't think that was possible yet. The Little Bean was too small for that yet, surely. He/she was still just cells... right?

The blood drawing and pelvic exam were unpleasant. Eggsy never did like getting his blood taken, and they had done it just yesterday; he still had the bandage to prove it. But he sort of floated through them, more concerned with being hit with the reality of the baby-to-be in his stomach having its own heartbeat. That sounded unreal, making it all the more solidified that it was happening, especially as he'd yet to start showing.

Then the doctor had him lie back on the table once he was changed back into his usual clothes, and lift up his shirt to reveal his stomach. 

An assistant was there setting up a machine and handing the first doctor some of the jelly that she then smeared on his stomach. 

"You... sure you'll find anything? It's a bit early, innit?" Eggsy asked rather hesitantly, eyeing the machine that looked more like a heart monitor than what he'd seen machines look like in TV shows and movies.

"No, not sure at all," she said lightly, still rubbing the jelly around to get a decent covering below Eggsy's navel. "It usually doesn't read until between weeks eight and ten. But the heart starts beating around now, and sometimes you can hear it. I'd like to test for it now, and if we can't find anything, we'll do it again when you come back for another check up in three weeks."

She was so annoyingly calm about this as she grabbed the wand and started pressing it into his skin, cold against his flesh. She pressed it in harder than he'd thought, and he winced, watching her warily. "Mmm... Yep, there's yours," she muttered, and sure enough the machine started making a quick warbling sort of noise. "Nervous, are you? It's a bit fast."

Eggsy glanced over to the screen, but all it displayed was a series of numbers that didn't make sense to him. He laid back against the seat and pressed his palms into his eyes again, shutting them tightly and making a noncommittal groaning noise.

"Hm... There's the placenta... You can hear the echo of your heartbeat in there." 

Eggsy’s heartbeat, which very nearly leaped into his throat as she spoke and a weird noise sounded from the machine. 

She pressed the wand into the right side of his lower belly, rolling it around in small circles, searching. "Hm... No. Not there..." she muttered to herself, head twisting between Eggsy's stomach and the screen.

His stomach felt like it was twisting into knots, and he wanted nothing more than to scrape this jelly off of him and run out of there. He wasn't ready to hear this, he wasn't mentally prepared for the reality of having a baby, he wasn't--

"Ah- There it is," the doctor said quietly, looking at the machine. 

Stiffening and unable to uncover his eyes, Eggsy listened. There it was, much faster and far quieter than his own, very nearly drowned out by the echoing of his own speeding heart. But still, it bled through, a small, feeble heartbeat. Beating through the speakers. He could hear it.

"Fuck..." Eggsy whispered, finally uncovering his eyes and laying back, listening to it for the few seconds longer the doctor left the wand there for him to hear. "That's..."

"A good sign development is on schedule. The heartbeat is strong for this stage." She nonchalantly removed the wand and handed it to the assistant for cleaning, as she herself began wiping up the goo from Eggsy's stomach. "Though we should be able to hear it much more clearly the next time you visit, when it's more than a quiet blipping sound."

"I..." Eggsy couldn't speak, couldn't say anything through the tightness in his throat and the prickling at his eyes. He’d heard the baby. His baby... He heard it. It was alive and he heard it...

The doctor patted his forearm sympathetically as she stood up, telling him something he didn't hear through his self-absorbed thoughts. The door opened, closed, and opened again, and Eggsy finally sat up after one tear escaped his repression and ran out the corner of his eye and into his hair. He wiped it away, looking up at the doctor as she handed him two pill bottles, telling him to take those vitamins and go off of the Acetaminophen. She also walked him through a few good remedies for the pain. 

They made a loose follow-up appointment for three weeks down the road, obviously dependent on Kingsman's work needs, and she promised in the event of an emergency or a time constraint, one of their doctors would be available 24/7 in the medical bay for him to see.

Numbly, Eggsy nodded and slid down from his perch, pocketing the medications. 

"It'll be fine, Gary," she said, smiling at him for the first time past that professional mask. "You're doing great."

Eggsy’s feet seemed to know what he was supposed to do more than he did, and they led him out of the medbay and along toward Merlin's office on their own, his mind wandering and trying to stop thinking about the little, warbling murmur that proved to him he had a little son or daughter in him. He was really, honestly going to be a dad. It was mind blowing, and he had never been so scared and so calm about anything in his life.

When he reached Merlin's office, he sat in a chair a bit down the hallway, not knowing if Harry and Merlin were done yet and not wanting to interrupt if they weren’t. Especially not in his frazzled state. So he waited, leaning back with his head resting against the wall and one arm draped over his stomach subconsciously.

-

With a few swipes on his clipboard accompanied by a couple quickly typed messages, Merlin pulled the necessary strings to get the position of Excalibur up and running. "You do realize you'll need to fill this position whether or not Eggsy accepts," he said lightly, one eyebrow raising slightly as Harry reached for the bottle of brandy again.

"I realize," Harry said curtly, downing a third glass before setting the bottle back down. He was going to take what alcohol he could get, figuring he would have to stop soon enough. He wasn't going to drink in front of Eggsy, not when it would just be a reminder that he couldn't. "Eggsy actually wanted to talk to you about something."

Merlin had suspected he might be getting a visit from him, and he nodded. "Find him and send him here, then," he said, shooing Harry out of his chair.

Harry stood and made his way over to the door, reaching up to activate his glasses. He suspected Eggsy was still in the medical bay, but it was possible he was done there and wandering through headquarters somewhere. Just as the comms turned on, he opened the door, pausing when he saw Eggsy seated in the hallway. "Merlin's ready to see you." 

The movement and emergence of Harry from the door did nothing to rouse Eggsy really, but at the sound of his husband's voice, he looked up, blinking owlishly at him a moment before what he had said processed. "Right, yeah. Thanks." 

Eggsy stood and made his way over to the door, giving Harry a small smile as he passed. He decided he wasn't going to mention what had happened in the appointment. Not now, anyway. Maybe the next time they were home together and had a bit of time he could bring it up in passing, but now wasn't the time. 

Harry stood to the side to let Eggsy through, staying in the office with him. He might as well be there when Eggsy was offered the position.

Merlin gave Eggsy a warm nod. "Harry said you needed to talk to me."

Standing straight with hands out of his pockets this time, Eggsy nodded. "Mm. Obviously I've got some shit going on, and you said I'm not allowed to do field work. So I was wanting to know what it is you'll want me to do, and when you want me to start working." 

Merlin and Harry exchanged a quick glance over Eggsy’s head. "Arthur and I were just discussing this," Merlin began, placing a bit of emphasis on the title. "There's a position recently opened that we think you could fill."

"But are in no way obligated to," Harry jumped in to say.

Acknowledging the interruption, Merlin turned his eyes back to Eggsy. "Excalibur. Arthur's right hand. It's yours if you want it."

Hearing Harry referred to as Arthur was a little weird, but not as weird as the name “Excalibur.” It must have literally just opened up because he hadn't heard of it before. And the description “Arthur's right hand” didn't really explain what it was. He reserved feeling on it for the moment and spoke slowly, considering his words. "What... does that entail, then?"

"Essentially, you'd be acting as a second Arthur. You would speak with his authority and approval, and only answer to him, none of the other knights. You would be at his personal disposal; if Arthur wanted you to go on a field mission, you would go. If he wanted you to take care of some task here at headquarters, you would take care of it, things of that nature," Merlin explained. "It's a unique position in that aspect."

Harry wandered closer, heading to stand beside Merlin so he was facing Eggsy. "I'll need help carrying out all the duties I'm going to have now, but understand what you'd be getting into, Eggsy. This is not something easily dissolved. Once you accept it, the place is yours. You would never truly be a knight of Kingsman and, should I die or step down as Arthur, you would inherit the role, one that is primarily administrative," he cautioned.

There was a beat of silence while the two of them let that sink in before Merlin cleared his throat. "You don't have to decide right now, lad. Better for you to go home and rest first," he said quietly. 

Holy shit.

That was a far cry from what Eggsy had thought he would be doing, more of a standard 9 to 5 filling out and filing paperwork sort of thing until after the baby came, and then he could be officially knighted. This was far more permanent, apparently. An administrative position at a spy agency was better than the load of nothing he'd been doing before, but he'd done well on his first mission, or at least he felt he had. Wouldn't that be an asset they'd want to utilize in the knight position? 

The saving grace of course was the mention that yes, Arthur could send him out to the field on occasion. Eggsy wouldn't be  _ entirely _ limited to helping run HQ as a glorified administrative assistant. Harry's clarification that he wouldn't be able to leave the post and that if, God forbid, something happened to him, he'd inherit the position... Well, that was more than enough to make Merlin's offer of time quite appealing.

"Yeah, I'm gonna sleep on it, if that's alright." Eggsy was already emotionally exhausted, and it had to be only around 10 A.M. A shame he couldn't smoke anymore, even his vape. His fingers itched for it.

Giving him a bit of a sympathetic once-over, Merlin nodded. "While I would like to hold a name open for you, I'm afraid we need as many agents in the field as we can get. Should you choose not to pursue this path, we'll find you a spot in one of the other departments until another knighthood becomes available, although you'll forgive me for saying I hope that won't be for quite some time. Just don't think this is your only option." 

With that, Merlin returned to his clipboard, sending Arthur the information he would need to get started on all the work he had waiting for him and effectively dismissing his two companions.

Harry made his way out of the office, lingering in the hallway outside for Eggsy.

Well, that at least answered why that door was closed to him. Eggsy nodded, understanding and knowing he'd have a night of debating ahead of him. "Thanks, Merlin," he said with a small smile, turning and leaving the office shortly thereafter. Maybe now that he wasn't a recruit he could actually learn his name, if he preferred it outside of codename situations. At least for his own reference.

Eggsy closed the door behind him as he exited, giving Harry a look expressing his mixed feelings as he scrunched his shoulders and let his hands find his pockets. 

Harry sighed lightly, stepping over to him and taking his face in his hands. "Did the doctors say anything?" he asked quietly.

Eggsy's eyes closed momentarily as Harry touched him, shoulders relaxing again before he reopened them and looked at him. "Did an examination again, said it’s going okay so far. Supposed to go back again in a few weeks for another checkup." He almost left it at that, but he couldn't come up with a good reason to keep things from Harry just now, and of all the things he had to worry about right then, he'd rather worry about the baby than Kingsman, honestly. "And she tested around to see if she could find the heartbeat yet. We found it. Super quiet and hard to hear since it's so early but... she found it."

That froze Harry, and for a second all he could do was look at Eggsy and blink. "It... There's a heartbeat?" he breathed. 

Eggsy nodded, half-smiling up at him. "Like I said, very, eh, faint. Hard to hear," he rambled.

"But still there," Harry pointed out, suddenly seized with the irrational urge to press his ear to Eggsy's stomach and hear it for himself. Instead, he settled for placing a soft kiss on his lips, drawing back a second later. "I don't know when I'll be home," he sighed, "but you should try and get some rest."

"That's what I expected, yeah." Eggsy sighed himself, head tilting to the side a bit as he stepped away from him. "I'll take the car back home then, if you're alright taking a cab. Apparently I got pills to take and a job proposal to think over." Extensively. 

Harry dug the keys out of his pocket. "I'm sure I'll be able to commandeer something," he said wryly. He could admit that there would be perks to being Arthur.

"Don't take anything I won't want you to give up," Eggsy teased lightly as he took the keys. He rested his hand gently on Harry’s chest as he leaned up to kiss his lips again. "I'll see you later then, yeah?" he said as he began moving away.

"Later," Harry confirmed, watching him walk off.

-

Later, as it turned out, meant much, much later. Harry was, for all intents and purposes, on his own amidst a sea of paperwork. Merlin offered what help he could, but he had problems of his own to deal with and a lack of authority besides. 

Harry’s hand started cramping by what must have been his seventy-fifth signature on some form or another (the words had started blurring together around form fifty-two), and he sat back in his chair, groaning.

Craving a break from the monotony, he took a walk around the complex, heading out to complete some of the more hands-on duties he had as Arthur. Not that there were many. By the time he'd re-seated himself in front of the blasted desk he was already coming to hate, only an hour had passed, which might as well have been nothing to his protesting hand. Still, he forced himself back to it.

By the time darkness fell, Harry had managed to make a sizeable dent; it could almost be enough to be called “progress”. He would have gotten further, of course, had it not been for the constant flow of interruptions, be they from knights offering him well-wishes or coming to him with problems. They were a blessed relief from form-filling, but the knowledge that he needed to get back to it was always in the back of Harry’s mind.

He didn't go home until Merlin appeared in his doorway, glaring sternly at him. "Go home," he demanded. Harry was about to protest, but Merlin cut him off before he got the chance. "You have a pregnant husband, and that lot," with a nod at the stacks of papers, "has waited six weeks. Another few hours won't hurt it."

Sighing, Harry heaved himself to his feet. He had to clutch at the edge of his desk when his vision blurred briefly, and he realized with a jolt how exhausted he was. Who knew sitting down all day could be so tiring? "Alright, alright, I'm going," he muttered.

To his surprise, there was already a cab ready and waiting to take him home, and he slid into it gratefully. When he returned home, he unlocked the door, entering as quietly as possible. 

-

Who knew simply existing while pregnant would be so exhausting? Eggsy wasn't far along at all, but he felt so tired, still rather sick to his stomach, and he took full advantage of the day of doing nothing but thinking over things by sitting and burying himself in his favourite blanket in his usual seat on the couch. The gaming system managed to tempt him for an hour or two, but mostly he was splitting his time between flipping through the books his mother had given him and considering Merlin's offer of Excalibur. 

How strange to think this was Eggsy’s life now, considering different positions offered to him in a spy agency and learning about what he could and couldn't eat now he had a little one in him. But he at least felt as though he was adapting quickly. His decision on the job, however, also had a lot to do with the baby. When he had it, what would happen? From his experience with Harry, being in Kingsman meant long, irregular hours. Would they be home enough to raise it properly if they were both taking on the Arthur and Arthur's assistant positions? Maybe it was the lack of a father throughout most of his life, but the last thing Eggsy wanted was to have his child grow up without him there.

The position of Excalibur was a weird one to wrap his head around. He would be doing exactly what he had offered to do for Harry, but more seriously, on a level he hadn’t known was possible. He would be above the position he'd wanted, but that wasn't terribly appealing. Eggsy had wanted the danger, and the action, and the excitement of a field position; with every test Merlin had thrown at him, he fell a little more in love with it. And to bid it goodbye after just a taste felt like a loss, Harry's reminder he ‘would never truly be a knight of Kingsman' ringing in his ears. Though every time it did, Merlin's counter point that he would not be holding a position for him and he would just have to wait until an agent died was compelling as well. 

V-Day excluded, agents didn't die more frequently than around 20-year gaps. If Eggsy didn't take Excalibur, he might not get anything more than a bit position for 20 years. Though again, he argued with himself, was that a bad thing? It wouldn't be what he selfishly wanted, but he could really be there for his daughter -- or son -- if he wasn't in the direct line of fire. But he also didn't want to leave Harry struggling through a position he didn't want for his sake on his own (snobbishly thinking he was the best person to work with Harry).

Round and round Eggsy went, arguing with himself as he folded down pages in the books telling him what to eat, how to exercise, when to expect certain signs, until night had fallen again. He was exhausted, his back and muscles feeling sore and a headache starting to set in.

After spoiling himself with a hot bath with scent added, he climbed into their large bed in a pair of warm pajama bottoms and curled up to drift into a light sleep, knowing full well it wouldn't be conducive to try and wait up for Harry.

He stayed asleep, too, until Harry reached the bedroom, willfully sleeping lightly enough that the slight creaking of the door was enough to stir him, moving around under the covers a little bit. "Mmm...?"

Grimacing guiltily as Eggsy stirred, Harry shut the door behind him with a barely audible click, wanting to just slip into the bed right then so he wouldn't have to disturb him even more. Instead, he gathered up his pyjamas, running his fingers lightly through Eggsy's hair and pressing his lips briefly to his forehead. "Go back to sleep," he breathed, moving off to the bathroom to get changed. 

Eggsy hummed contentedly as Harry's hand and lips touched him. Though he encouraged him to go back to sleep, and admittedly it was very tempting in the warmth and comfort of the bed, he wanted to stay up a bit, let Harry know his decision. More than that, he wanted to feel the presence of another body in the bed before he drifted back off again. So he forced himself to stay up, lying on his back, hand on his chest as he waited.

It wasn't long before Harry was emerging from the bathroom and hanging his suit up in the closet. When he turned to face the bed, he shook his head at finding Eggsy still awake, sliding in beside him. "I thought I told you to go back to sleep," he murmured. 

"Since when do I listen?" Eggsy countered, voice rougher than normal with sleep, inching over toward Harry but not actually touching him. "Didn't want to miss you."

"Unfortunately, you might have to get used to that," Harry sighed. "I don't want you waking up in the middle of the night every night." 

"So I'll take it when I can get it." Eggsy yawned, reburying his face in his pillow. "Also wanted to give you my answer, since it'll be the same come morning, and I didn't know if I'd see you."

Harry glanced down at him even if Eggsy couldn't see him with his face buried in the pillow like that. "And what did you decide?"

"I'm taking it," he sighed, curling up a bit more with his back to Harry. "Thought about it a lot. I'm gonna give my answer officially tomorrow."

Harry pressed his lips together in a thin line. If it was what Eggsy wanted, then there wasn't much he could do or say to dissuade him. Not that he really wanted to dissuade him. If he had to spend most of his waking and working hours with someone, he was glad it would be Eggsy.

Harry turned on his side, sliding an arm around Eggsy’s waist and shifting until his chest was pressed against Eggsy's back. 

Eggsy made a quiet humming sound as Harry pressed in close to him, touching his arm lightly. Tomorrow would be another long day. Just like that day. And the day before. He sighed and pushed his face more insistently into the pillow. 

Harry's hand shifted slightly until it was resting against Eggsy's stomach. He leaned his head forwards until his lips brushed against his neck. "Sleep, Eggsy," he murmured quietly.

A wonderful idea. Eggsy didn't get a reply in, his body already obeying and succumbing to a deeper sleep than before, blissfully free of nightmares or dreams of any kind.


	31. A Miscarriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> please be advised that the title of this chapter is not misleading; there will be heavy emotional moments in this and the following few chapters relating to miscarrying

Harry didn't sleep long, his internal clock reminding him that there were still a million things to be done. It was far from time for Eggsy to be awake or for either of them to head into Kingsman, so he carefully unwound his arm from around him and made his way off the bed. 

It took a bit for him to track down the books Michelle had given them on pregnancy, and he picked one of them up, heading downstairs so as not to disturb Eggsy with the light. He started flipping through the pages, noting the marks and dog-ears Eggsy had put in there earlier. 

-

As soon as Eggsy gave his notice of accepting the post of Excalibur, things started moving very quickly. Merlin helped him get acquainted with the previously-nonexistent role and what it entailed, which was, overwhelmingly, the paperwork to begin with. Arthur himself had to make the more pressing decisions about the agency as they came up which was just as well; Eggsy was still too new to do so, though he was informed what the situation was and what Harry decided afterwards for reference. Mostly, he was filling out information and filing things away from the previous six weeks. He was compiling data, putting little marks from sticky notes where Harry needed to make his actual signature, and signing away a few things that he could to lessen the load.

It was boring, mostly. Eggsy told himself -- backed up by a pat on the shoulder from Merlin -- that it wouldn't always be like this. They were still playing catch-up. And Merlin was good enough to clear out an unused office on the north side that was facing the large field so Eggsy could at least see something when the prosaic drum of the paperwork got to be too much and he needed to look at something else. 

He wore his suit (and had a few other ones commissioned so it wasn't the same battle-worn suit day in and day out) and glasses, the whole Kingsman outfit so he could be ready at a moment's notice should Harry decide to send him out on any assignment. Though it seemed more likely Harry would take them himself for a while, which he was alright with. He  _ was  _ pregnant, and Harry was just as bored as he was, if not more so. It was an interesting experience when he started being addressed by his new code-name, after being inducted with the members that remained, and introduced to the new ones that were starting to come in. Excalibur was going to take some getting used to.

Eventually, it came time for another check up on his pregnancy. Eggsy was so grateful for the break and the chance to change back into looser clothing. It was near the end of the normal working day and he came to a stopping point in the papers he was still shuffling through. He decided that that was as good a time as ever to stop. He gathered up the papers he was delivering to Harry and ruffled his hair as he walked down the hall, knocking on Harry's door as he leaned on the frame.

-

It was a mess trying to fit everything in on Harry’s end. The forms seemed never-ending, no matter how many Eggsy took on. It was never quite as bad as the first day, however, never the same seemingly endless slog through a mess of paper and ink. There was a bit more of a structure to it as the days rolled by, more of a routine to settle in. He'd start off reviewing the field missions with Merlin, listen to any notes or comments that may have accumulated within the agency, and then drop into Eggsy's office to retrieve the first round of paperwork demanding his attention. Excalibur could fill out most of it, and often it just required the quick flick of his signature before he could send it off where it needed to go.

There were, of course, unforeseen eventualities that cropped up that had to be dealt with. Harry had been back out in the field more than once since taking up Arthur's mantle. He barely considered sending Excalibur in his stead. 

In what little downtime he had, he'd bury himself in the books Michelle had lent them, trying to learn as much as he could about what Eggsy would need in the coming months. It would be difficult to find time to deal with it all, but if Harry could run Kingsman, he could certainly handle a pregnant husband. He hoped.

Days wore into weeks with little change and the hours stretched out with little break in their monotony. This, however, was broken by a knock on his door. Harry glanced up, setting down his pen and flexing his fingers. "Come in."

Eggsy stepped inside, a faint smirk on his face as he tipped a few packets of papers into his inbox, rife with signature tabs. "Having fun?" he asked casually, leaning against Harry’s desk after he dropped them.

Harry watched the papers slide into the basket with a look of loathing on his face. "Some days it's hard to remember there were times I was actually happy to see you," he said flatly, sitting back to look at Eggsy. 

"Oh, that hurts," Eggsy hummed, unperturbed. "I'm always happy to see you. Especially now that I'm done for the moment. And I was about to offer you a break, too." He turned his wrist to look at the watch he still wore -- even while casual he felt he should have something on him just in case -- and looked back to Harry with that smirk still in place.

That caught Harry's attention. He'd just picked up the pen to get back to it, but he set it back down gratefully. "Perhaps I could stand the idea after all. What's this break of yours?" 

"I'm going to go get checked out again down in medbay. They're gonna have a listen to Lil' Grape." The smirk was more of a smile now, and Eggsy’s head tilted. "You know. If you wanna come have a listen."

Harry was out of his chair almost before Eggsy had finished speaking. "Wouldn't want to be late," he said lightly, already heading for the door. 

Snickering, Eggsy got up and followed him, walking alongside him as they made their way to the lifts to take them down to the medical offices.

"Have you been feeling alright?" Harry asked lowly as they stepped into the lifts and the doors slid closed. 

"I'm still not great," Eggsy said with a shrug. "Tired, achy. But not throwing up so much anymore. I think it's alright."

Harry leaned back against the wall of the lift, eyes closing with a soft sigh. It didn't take long before it was juddering to a halt and the doors slid open, Harry stepping into the corridor. 

Eggsy followed after him, walking alongside him in silence on the way, relaxed now that he wasn't staring at his desk constantly. When they reached medical, he greeted the doctor first, informing her that this time Harry would like to be there. 

She shrugged, leading them to the exam room and leaving them alone as Eggsy hopped up on the paper-covered bench automatically.

There were a couple of chairs off to one side and Harry pulled one of them over, seating himself in it. "And you're sure we'll be able to hear it?"

"I heard it last time. She's got to have grown a bit in a few weeks, too," Eggsy said lightly, letting himself get comfortable against the reclined bench. "If the doctor can find her again, you should hear it loud and clear."

Lips quirking slightly at the use of 'she' and 'her', Harry nodded. It didn't seem like a conscious choice on Eggsy's part, more like an assumption that they would be having a daughter. It was a little endearing, if he was being honest. 

When the doctor returned, Eggsy was complacent, less anxious and scared about it this time, as he'd already had it happen before. Not that Harry would know his reaction was different. But after three more weeks had passed by where he’d had the chance to get used to the information, to accept pregnancy as a fact to work with as opposed to the scary new information it was, it was less daunting. It seemed less like a giant looming over him, ready to crush him at any moment, and more like a boulder he had to push up a hill. Still scary, still daunting, but a little easier to deal with, not quite so in danger of being crushed.

The jelly once again was smeared on Eggsy’s stomach, and at least with Harry there Eggsy had someone to make a face at, wrinkling his nose at its coldness on his bare skin. Despite the imposed calmness at the ordeal, he eyed the wand as it was produced. His lips pressed together as the wand was firmly placed against his lower stomach.

Harry watched the proceedings with a sort of detached interest. He only had a vague idea of what they were doing, but it didn't seem to be a cause for worry with the way Eggsy was pulling faces at him. His eyes flicked briefly to the machine they'd brought in, but there wasn't much to see there either. 

Eggsy watched his stomach instead of the monitor as the instrument pushed into him and rubbed, searching for the heartbeat. They found his own easily, Eggsy's eyes flickering to the doctor until she shook her head once, absently chewing her lip as she searched further upward. A little up, a little to the right, and there was the echoing sound again, his heartbeat slower and more distant in the liquid in him.

And with a little more of an angle, she found it, a much faster beating sound coming from the speakers of the machine. 

Eggsy's eyebrows rose a little; he’d known it would be stronger than last time, but last time it had been so faint he could convince himself he hadn't heard anything. This time was unmistakable; that was another heartbeat. He turned his head slightly, looking over at Harry with a smile.

For a moment Harry didn't understand what all the fuss was about. There was Eggsy's heartbeat and not much else; it just grew fainter as the wand moved around on his stomach. Then the doctor seemed to find something and there it was, the unmistakable sound of another heart beating.

Harry’s breath caught in his chest, eyes riveted on Eggsy's stomach. He could sense him looking over and smiling at him but he couldn't pay much attention to that, thoughts a near unbroken stream of, 'that's my son or daughter, they're alive, I can hear them.' Almost unconsciously, his hand edged forwards to rest on the side of the examination table. 

Eggsy kept looking at him, smiling more softly as he watched him hearing proof their child was alive. He knew it, Harry knew it, but as he wasn't showing, it really wasn't as real as it was hearing him/her. He lay back again, listening to it and not even really hearing the doctor as she said something, but the tone sounded positive at least.

Harry glanced up at the doctor as she spoke, relief flooding through him at her pronouncement that everything seemed to be as it should be. His hand moved slightly further forwards until the tips of his fingers were pressed against Eggsy's skin, feeling an intense need to touch him, form some sort of physical connection. 

Eggsy didn't look up as he felt Harry's fingers touch him, lost in himself even as the doctor pulled the wand away and began cleaning the jelly from his stomach and the instrument. He did take a tissue when it was offered to clean up the last traces, his eyes reopening once it was done to look over at Harry. Wordlessly, he took his hand and placed it on his clean stomach, laying his own on top of it.

Blinking as the doctor cleaned Eggsy up, Harry made to pull his hand away when he found it captured by Eggsy, lying on his stomach seconds later. The warmth and weight of Eggsy's hand on top of his was a welcome thing, and he managed to tear his eyes away for the first time since the heartbeat had started up, fixing them on his husband's face instead. "This is real," he said, voice closer to a whisper than anything else. 

"Yeah," Eggsy agreed, voice quiet and soft as he met Harry’s eyes. "Fucking crazy, innit?" He lightly squeezed his hand, glancing down as if if he stared long enough, he would be able to see something there. 

One corner of Harry's lips twitched up into a smile and his thumb brushed over Eggsy's knuckles. "At least it's good crazy," he pointed out. The kind of crazy that made him want to sweep Eggsy up and kiss him despite the other people in the room, the kind that made him look down at their entwined hands and think he certainly didn't deserve to have any of this. 

Smiling happily at him, Eggsy returned his attention to the doctor, answering the various questions about taking his vitamins and making sure he was on the dietary plan they had agreed upon.

"Alright, Mister Unwin," she said, rising with her chart and sliding the pen into place. "Your readings are looking good, so keep doing what you're doing. Come check back in in another three weeks, alright?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Eggsy agreed, sitting up finally and dropping Harry's hand to pull his shirt back down as she left the room.

Harry stood when Eggsy released his hand, replacing the chair back where he’d found it. "Would you mind if I am came to the next one as well?" Harry asked, standing by the examination table. 

"I was already thinking you was gonna," Eggsy shrugged, sliding off of the table and looking up at him. "Book says still just sound until week... 18, so, three more months.  _ And  _ I'll be getting big soon," he added, poking his stomach lightly. "I'll always invite you, just depends on how busy you are," he added, walking over and stopping an arm's reach away from Harry.

Harry didn't even think before stepping forward to close the gap, arm sliding around Eggsy’s waist. "Just sound is more than enough," he assured him, though he had to admit there was a bit of a thrill that went through him at the thought of seeing their baby, getting to watch it grow even if it was only in grainy black and white. "And it's a good thing the bed is big enough for three," he teased. 

"Shut it," Eggsy huffed, winding his own arms around him. "Together, the two of us'll slowly edge you out," he teased back, not bothering to keep up his pout for long before he was looking pleased again. As much as the thought had terrified him, this did feel rather right, he and Harry and a little one they were going to bring into the world. He loved Harry -- and it really did feel like now they were doing this, and doing this together, it was going to be okay. He could handle a baby.

Eyebrows raising slightly, Harry dropped his eyes to Eggsy's stomach briefly, looking slightly affronted by the time he returned them to his face. "Conspiring against me already?"

"Sorry, bruv," Eggsy said, looking reluctant and nearly apologetic. "Was gonna happen eventually, but we decided to get a jump on it early." As there was no one there, he pressed a gentle, quick kiss to Harry’s lips.

Harry pulled away from it, scowling in mock anger. "For a spy you're not very good at hiding your intentions," he pointed out.

"You say that like you want me to be secretive. Noted, I'll start keeping shit from you." Eggsy nodded, dropping his arms from around Harry and moving to step back.

But Harry only tightened the hold he had around Eggsy’s waist, leaning down to press another kiss to his lips. "You had better not," he said when he pulled back, releasing him. "I've gotten used to not having any secrets between us."

Eggsy smiled as they broke from the kiss, stepping back sincerely, though not too far. "But how are we gonna keep things spicy?" He offered his hand, extending it toward Harry as he started backing from the room, making for the lifts again.

Harry rolled his eyes skyward as Eggsy walked backwards, following after him and taking his hand. "I'm sure we can find other ways," he said, one eyebrow raising suggestively. 

"Ah- cooperative grand theft auto. That's a good idea." Eggsy smiled innocently as he loosely held on to Harry’s hand and pressed the call button. "Am I dropping you back off at your office, then? Cause I'm going the fuck home."

Harry rubbed at his eyes with his free hand as the lift started moving, sighing heavily. "Given the fact that  _ someone _ dropped another pile of papers on my desk before we went to this appointment, I think I should go back to my office." 

"Mm, sounds like a real prick," Eggsy hummed, his free hand touching his own lower back; it was starting to really hurt again. "Forgive your husband then when he's sleeping when you get home." 

Noting the way Eggsy touched his back, Harry hummed once. "Perhaps I should take to sleeping in the guest room again, not have to disturb you when I get home," he suggested. 

Quickly glancing up at him, Eggsy narrowed his eyes. "You won't, though." He'd rather be woken up by Harry in the middle of the night than only see him at work. 

The lift doors opened, and Eggsy stepped out with Harry, still keeping hold of his hand while he had it.

Harry followed after him without protest, conceding the point. "Fine, then. I won't." 

Stopping outside his door, Eggsy finally dropped his hand, reaching up to ruffle his hair as he sighed. "I'll see you later, then. Good luck with signing your name all those times."

"My hand is going to need some intensive therapy after this," Harry lamented, flexing his fingers. "I think it's forgetting how to do anything other than hold a pen and write my damn name." 

"You know, I think I can think of a few other uses for your hand," Eggsy said, looking up at him while tilting his head and lifting his eyebrows. "But you're busy. Another time, then."

Groaning, Harry broke away from him and opened his office door. "I'll be home eventually," he promised.

"You'll find me passed out sprawled in the middle of the bed." As Harry stepped toward the office, Eggsy backed up a bit, making back for the lifts to take him down to the lobby so he could go home. "Later, Harry," he said with a bit of a smile.

Harry gave Eggsy a bit of a wave in return before retreating back into his office with absolutely nothing to look forward to for the next few hours. 

-

The next two weeks were a blur. Once again, of course, Eggsy was bogged down with the amount of work being dumped on him every day, paperwork on top of paperwork on top of paperwork. But now he was starting to do actual Kingsman agency functions, including meeting one-on-one with agents (with Merlin there for the first two to make sure Eggsy knew what he was doing and be there for any questions he may have) and being more involved as regular missions carried onward. 

Harry got the bulk of those, of course, being both an experienced agent and having the higher position, but simpler ones or ones that fell in the time where Harry was being called out to other face-to-face or computer meetings were given to Eggsy. He met Percival officially and gave him his next mission which would send him to France. They went over the details, and Eggsy slid over the document with the information inside and everything. It all felt very official. He texted Harry after that, bragging that he'd finally done something that didn't make him feel like an intern.

Eggsy didn't notice the bump starting to show on his front at first; he still fit pretty well inside his suit, but the buttons were a little more strained. It wasn't easy, he still felt tired and had begun to get cravings for certain foods, but he kept himself pretty well in check as he continued working. 

Occasionally, he would notice his hand resting on his belly absently while he read or wrote, and though he knew it was dumb as the baby wasn't there and wasn't listening to him and didn't know he was even there, he hummed a little more than usual and felt a sort of bonding with it.

It seemed Michelle was warming up to the idea of it, too. More and more frequently, Eggsy picked up a buzzing phone to read a message from her asking him if he needed this or that, inquiring as to how he was feeling and if he needed home remedies, wanting to see him. It was sweet, and nice of course to have an extra nudge of support now and then.

Eggsy was calling a meeting the next day, co-running a discussion with Merlin regarding a mission they were putting together bound for northern Ireland. It was supposed to take place in one of the conference rooms the previous Arthur had not used much with all available agents in range. 

Harry, however, had been out of town for the last two days. He was supposed to be back that day as well, but Eggsy was taking the opportunity to stretch himself a little, continuing to learn about the different functions of his role as Excalibur.

Eggsy woke up that morning not feeling very well. The hopes he had for it being a bad night's sleep twisted around in the too-large bed were squashed fairly quickly as he had to run to the bathroom lest he be sick on the carpet. He frowned once he stood straight again, looking himself in the mirror after washing out his mouth. He hadn't thrown up for weeks now; he’d thought he was past that. The morning sickness had worn off, and he was more or less just experiencing the second steps in pregnancy. But today, he supposed, was a one-off day, what with the throwing up and the aches and pains in his lower back worse than ever.

But his dismissal was a little premature. As Eggsy got ready for the day, he started feeling a dull sort of panic in the back of his mind as he found blood where there should definitely not be blood. But he took a few breaths, reeling it back in. The books had said that sometimes in the first twenty weeks there would be instances of bleeding, and while obviously scary, it was nothing to worry about. 

Still, he made a note to check in with the doctors after his meeting, make sure he was really was panicking over nothing. And with Harry not even there, he didn't see the need to bother him with this.

Eggsy’s thoughts turned to the meeting instead, and he busied himself with going over the information he needed to know, ignoring the tiredness in his whole body. Soon the sick and bit of blood were far out of his mind, replaced instead with facts and names. He made it to the meeting on time -- as Merlin made a point in telling him -- and took his seat next to him at the head of the table. 

"Are you feeling alright, lad?" Merlin frowned as Eggsy sat, looking at him with some amount of concern.

"Hm?" Eggsy looked up over the top of his glasses rather distractedly, having been unlocking and pulling up information on his Kingsman tablet. "What? ... Oh, yeah. Just a bit of a rough morning. I'll choke back some non-caff tea or whatever it is I'm supposed to be drinking when we're done and I'll be fine," he assured Merlin with a light smile that wasn't returned. 

Humming once and seeming to dismiss the issue, he pulled out his own tablet. Once Lancelot, Gaheris, Kay, and Lamorak were all present and ready, they began.

It started out easily enough, Eggsy reminding a few of them who he was and launching into a discussion of the information. He used his own tablet to pull up data files on the screen, talking about a few of them. When he got to the third item, he cut himself off, gritting his teeth against the sudden pain lancing through his middle.

"Are you alright, Excalibur?" Merlin asked him, eyeing him carefully when he stopped.

"Fine, fine," Eggsy said, waving his hand as he pressed on, hiding the reverberating ache of pain in his stomach. He had to get through this first. "Right, so Geoffrey Brannon is suspected of keeping hold of the last bit of information we need to confirm our theories. Lancelot, we're going to ask you t--gh--" Again, he cut himself off as his face contorted in a grimace of pain.

"Eggsy--" Merlin said more urgently, turning to face him instead. 

Eggsy was quickly losing colour in his face as nausea started up again, his hands shaking in his lap. "Merlin, I'm--" A cramping sensation was building steadily in his belly, and he couldn't delay this any further. He needed to get to the doctor, now.

"Fuck it," Eggsy groaned, raising himself out of his chair somewhat shakily. Roxy and Merlin both looked like they were about to stand up after him. "Merlin, take over," he grunted, already starting for the door as upright and composed as he could manage to be. "I'm going to medbay, jus--"

"Go, go," Merlin urged him, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Eggsy stumbled off for the lift, jabbing the button far more times than was necessary and supporting himself on the wall with one of his hands as the other clutched his stomach through his suit. "Fucking hell..." he murmured to himself, eyes squeezed shut against the cramping pain burning in him. This wasn't good. This was not good.

He must have sort of blacked out for the lift ride, because one moment he was waiting for it to arrive, and the next his legs were carrying him down the sterile, white, all-too-familiar hallway. "Help--" he called out, looking for one of the doctors always on staff. "I need some help-"

Someone appeared, a male this time, walking quickly out of one of the nearby rooms. "What's the matter?"

"Fuck, I need help, I'm pregnant and--" Eggsy had to stop again, pain shocking him and making him grasp onto the nearest door frame for support. He groaned loudly in pain and in frustration, clutching his stomach. "It fucking hurts!"

"Nurse!" The doctor called for help as he went to Eggsy, throwing his arm around him to help lead him to the nearest examination room. 

There was a blur of nausea and pain so severe it pushed black into Eggsy’s vision as he was stripped of most of his suit and laid on the table. What he did notice, however, was the blood seeping between his legs all over the flimsy paper covering. "Fuck!" he gasped as the nurse stuck an IV into him with pain medication, the doctor wheeling out a machine to check his belly. Though with his movements, quick though they were, Eggsy could tell he was only confirming what he already knew. 

The pain was lessening now as the medicine took effect. The doctor listened to the machine, read the numbers it displayed, and slowly lowered it. "The pain will go away," he promised, standing and moving to be right beside Eggsy. His face was entirely too somber. "You’re going through a miscarriage... I am very sorry. There's nothing we can do."

"No!" Eggsy gasped, trying to push away the numbness to move, sit up, hold his stomach, something. As if clutching at himself would somehow keep his Little One safe. "You're a fucking doctor! Do something! Save her!" He touched his legs, feeling the warm, sticky substance there, red blood shining on his fingers as he pulled them away. His hand was shaking. "Don't just stand there! You've got to do something to stop it-"

"I'm sorry, young man," the doctor said, voice low and soothing despite how hysterically Eggsy was yelling at him. "When you're ready, we'll get you cleaned up and taken care of and moved to a recovery room for however long you need."

He left the room, the nurse standing patiently in the corner, waiting for Eggsy's go ahead. 

But he couldn't give it. Eggsy fell back against the bed and screamed, putting all the anger and hurt from the physical pain and the pain of loss that was starting to cut through him into his short, agonized yell.


	32. An Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are still issues related to miscarriage in this chapter, so please proceed with caution

Eventually, Eggsy found himself limply laying back in a recovery bed, medication hooked into his veins again and much less blood covering him. He stared emptily at the ceiling. 

He'd lost their baby. He should have seen the signs for what they were, should have gone to the doctor first thing, should have... should have done... anything. Something. He wanted to be wholly and completely alone, and he wanted Harry with him more than anything. 

Did Harry even know he was here? 

Eggsy's glasses lay on the table, his phone turned off. He didn't have the energy or the desire to talk to anyone.

He just stared at the ceiling.

-

Going away in the middle of everything wasn't something Harry would have decided to do on his own, but duty called, and someone had to answer. He wasn't about to send Eggsy off to Belgium for a meeting with the head of the German Kingsman branch, not when he was just beginning to show signs of the pregnancy. It hadn't escaped his notice, the way his husband had taken to settling his hand over his abdomen or walking with a slightly heavier tread than usual. He'd noticed the soft swell of his stomach growing too, the few times he'd glimpsed Eggsy sans shirt the past couple of days.

Work, thankfully, was just starting to balance out after the mad rush in the beginning. Harry had worked long, unbroken hours until he'd caught up, often heading home for just long enough to shower and spend a half hour or so with Eggsy outside of the confines of the headquarters. He saw him around Kingsman, of course, given the interrelationship between their positions, but it was only in a professional context and never for very long.

Everything seemed to be going as it should, from what Harry could tell. Eggsy was eating (though, on occasion, some of the things he craved were rather out of the ordinary), he was getting enough rest, and Harry ensured he wasn't over-exerting himself physically. 

Still, he didn't leap at the chance to fly overseas. Had he been able to, he would have sent another agent in his stead, but that would have been perceived as an insult, sending a lesser agent to meet with the Chancellor. It had to be Arthur.

So it was that Harry found himself stuck in Germany for three days. He didn't have much time to think about Eggsy during that time, kept busy with meeting after meeting and all the necessary outings that went with it. Whenever he got a text from Eggsy, he would reply, but there weren't many opportunities to communicate beyond that and, besides, Excalibur was just as busy as he was now that he had to run everything on his own.

It was with a nearly overwhelming sense of relief that Harry boarded the plane back to England. Two full days had been quite long enough for him, would be more than enough by the time his flight ended that afternoon.

Nearly as soon as he set foot into headquarters, Harry could tell something was wrong. Merlin found him almost before he'd gotten off the plane, looking entirely too grave. "Merlin?" Harry asked, brow furrowing. "Did something happen?"

Merlin nodded once, lips pressed into a grim line. "It's Eggsy."

And Harry felt his heart stop. What had he been thinking, heading off to another country and just leaving Eggsy behind? "What happened? Where is he?" he asked, mouth dry, throat closing up.

"He's in medical-" Merlin began, fully intending on explaining the entire situation, but Harry didn't seem to want to stick around to hear it. He was already pushing past him, long legs eating up the ground on the way to medical. Even as Merlin watched, he brought a hand up to his glasses, activating his comms.

"And what happened?" Harry asked, pace steadily increasing until he was nearly jogging towards the wards.

Merlin rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He'd never been one to mince words, but this wasn't a particularly easy thing to tell anyone, let alone one of his oldest and closest friends. "The doctors tell me he had a miscarriage. Harry, he… he lost the baby."

There was a slight stutter in his pace, a step that Harry missed. He stumbled to a halt, mind replaying the words over and over again, seemingly getting louder with each repetition. His eyes closed and he had to lean one hand against the wall to support himself momentarily as he gave himself time to take it in, soak up what was happening. If that were true -- if Eggsy really had miscarried -- he was going to need Harry to not be a broken mess when he got there.

When Harry felt he'd regained some semblance of composure, he headed towards the recovery rooms, slower this time. He inquired as to which room exactly Eggsy was in, the nurse guiding him to it and giving him a sympathetic nod before drifting back off to her duties. 

Harry stared at the closed door for a moment before reaching out and rapping on it with his knuckles. "Eggsy?"  

Hearing his name startled Eggsy, so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't really paid attention to his surroundings in what felt like hours. He recognized it as Harry's voice, vaguely acknowledging that he was even back at all, and he returned his eyes to the ceiling. "Yeah," he answered, voice devoid of any real inflection.

Taking that as permission, Harry slowly opened the door, edging his way inside and letting it close behind him. His stomach clenched at the sight in front of him; he didn't much like the look of Eggsy, nor the dead-eyed way he was staring up at the ceiling. There was a chair over by the window and he moved it over beside the bed, seating himself in it and just watching Eggsy for a moment, silent. "Merlin told me what happened," he finally said.

As much as Eggsy was grateful that Harry was there, he still wanted to be alone. Though, he might want to be alone for quite some time now. Facing anything or anyone seemed nearly unbearable. He didn't look over when Harry entered or sat, but as he finished speaking, his eyes closed and he exhaled a low breath. When they opened again, his head turned, and he looked at Harry with dull eyes. "I lost her." Again, his voice was monotone, a statement of fact.

"I know," Harry said, voice soft. Eggsy had never dropped the habit of calling the baby 'she' or 'her' even though they'd not had the chance to find out what it actually would have been. It had been endearing, but now it was just painful. Hesitantly, not quite sure how Eggsy would react, he reached for his hand, holding it loosely. "I know," he repeated. 

Eggsy didn't reject his hand, but like everything else, he didn't show much emotion about it. He didn’t hold back. "I didn't do anything about it." He looked away from Harry, at the wall behind him rather than at him. "It hurt. But I went to the meeting instead. Ignored it, assumed it would go away. Didn't do anything."

Harry's grip around Eggsy's hand tightened, and a muscle in his jaw flexed briefly. "Stop it," he said firmly. "You're not allowed to blame yourself for this, do you understand me?" 

"Found blood this morning and everything," Eggsy continued, ignoring Harry and very much blaming himself for this. After a beat of silence, he sighed, somehow deflating a little more. "I thought... I was doing okay. It seemed fine, followed the books and all... What did I do wrong?" His eyes flickered back to Harry's, a small frown on his face. "...i'm sorry, Harry."

That was unacceptable. It was hard enough losing their child; Harry wasn't about to let Eggsy load the weight of it completely on his shoulders. "Don't you dare apologize, Eggsy," he said. "This wasn't because of anything that you did; like you said, you did everything fine, everything you could. These things just..." he fell silent for a moment, shoulders slumping forwards slightly. "Happen." 

Eggsy had been numb, had made himself feel nothing, but with Harry there, he was really starting to feel it again, and he didn't want to. They'd made a child together, one that they hadn't planned on, no, but one he'd felt such attachment to already. Losing it, whomever it would have been, hurt worse than the actual pain it had caused him. "...just happen," he echoed with a sigh, resisting the urge that had become second nature to touch his stomach.

Reality hit home for Harry then, as he saw Eggsy's hand twitch towards his stomach briefly before re-settling on the bed. His son or daughter was dead without ever having really lived. He clamped down on his burgeoning grief before it manifested itself physically. Eggsy had enough distress of his own, he didn't need Harry's on top of it. "I'm sorry I wasn't here," he whispered.

"You was working. So was I." Eggsy didn't even blame Kingsman for this, as he easily could. It wasn't Kingsman's fault he’d lost their baby. You couldn't lose a child from too much paperwork. Finally, after adjusting the bed so he was half-sitting up, he grasped Harry’s hand, lifting it to press the back of it against his forehead.

Harry watched him, letting his hand be pulled around, eyes softening. "I'm here now," he promised Eggsy. "For as long as you need me."

Eggsy slowly nodded and lowered Harry’s hand into his lap, holding on to it. "Doctors say I can leave whenever. I just... haven't felt like facing people yet." 

While physically he was fine, he’d even requested the pain medication himself rather than the doctor prescribing it, Eggsy was so emotionally shot he couldn't think of facing anyone out there. He doubted Merlin was spreading the news around, but it would be apparent in the lack of stomach now (especially after the scraping performed when he limply accepted it; he’d firmly blotted it out and couldn't really remember it) and the signs of grief etched in his face. And when he had to tell his  _ mother...  _ The thought made him want to never leave this hospital bed. "But... thanks." He lightly squeezed Harry’s hand in gratitude.

"You don't have to, not until you're ready," Harry assured him. He could put off being Arthur for another couple hours at the very least, and he might just ask Merlin to take over some of the duties for the rest of the day and go in early the next few days. Eggsy was his priority. 

"...could you do me a favour then?" These beds were small, but fuck it, they could make it work. Eggsy shimmied over a little toward the edge of the bed, making sure the arm with the IV still stuck in it was undisturbed as he lay on his side. He didn't finish actually asking his request, but he figured Harry would understand.

It was clear what Eggsy was asking. It was not so clear that Harry would fit in the bed with him. But the least he could do was try, and he found himself leaning down to unlace his Oxfords, setting them off to one side and pushing out of the chair. He climbed into the bed beside Eggsy, pressed close to him in order to actually stay on. 

Making himself small to allow Harry room, Eggsy sighed at feeling his body pressed into his own. He needed to just be like this for a little bit. There wasn't any way to make this aching loss in his chest lessen other than time. But being near Harry for the moment helped, and he soaked it up, knowing he probably wouldn't be getting it again for some time once they parted again. "I'll be back to work tomorrow," he promised, his eyelids fluttering shut.

Harry fought the urge to wrap his arm around Eggsy's waist, figuring that would only serve as a reminder that there was nothing left there to protect. At his declaration, his brow furrowed. "I can deal without you for a day or two if you need it, Eggsy. Don't throw yourself back into it so soon if you're not actually ready." 

"I'll be fine,” Eggsy said simply. That was exactly his plan, as well. He was going to shower, get a new suit, and sink himself into work so he didn't have to think about this for awhile. And hey, he could drink and smoke now. He knew what his plan was the moment he felt good enough to get out of this bed. 

There wasn't much Harry could do besides trust in Eggsy's judgement on the matter. Eggsy certainly knew better than he did how he felt about this. But, then again, he knew all too well what it was like to bury oneself in a job instead of facing what had to be faced; he'd worked like a madman after Hannah had left him, run himself ragged so he'd been too exhausted to think about anything, to face reality. Sighing, he trailed his fingers lightly down Eggsy's side. "I hope so," he breathed. 

Eggsy quietly lay there, reaching to take Harry’s hand as it touched his side and drape it around his waist. He didn't speak after that, choosing instead to lie there with him as long as he would allow it. 

Harry's hold tightened on him slightly and his lead tilted forwards, curling over Eggsy's slightly. He tried to bring himself to care about how much time was passing as he lay there, but he just couldn't.

When eventually Harry had to leave him to get back to Kingsman -- the agency couldn't stop spinning for the two of them having a crisis; the show must go on as it were -- Eggsy continued laying there for an extra hour or so. It had hurt so badly when it all first happened, but thanks in part to the medication in his veins, he was now almost completely numb. He didn't want to think about the baby he had lost, he didn't want to think about letting Harry down twice over (he had gotten unexpectedly knocked up and lost it after they had gotten used to the idea, excited even). 

Just as he said he would, Eggsy left the medical bay as soon as he could feel his legs enough to move, called for a Kingsman cab to take him home, and got into the shower. The water near scalding, he stood there for a long time, willing the water to take those feelings of anguish and roll them down his body and down the drain along with it.

As with anything else, this was a process. First thing he did after stepping out of the shower, his body red and splotchy from all the heat pounding down on him, was grab an actual package of cigarettes he kept for situations of anxiety when the vape just wouldn't cut it. He leaned on the windowsill in the kitchen of the empty house, staring at the sky and blowing the smoke out into it. He called the tailor shop and requested a set of trousers be remade from his suit of the morning, the bottoms far too soaked through with blood to be salvageable.

Eggsy considered drowning himself in video games, but they had lost their appeal entirely. Sitting there, staring at a screen suddenly seemed far too juvenile a solution, and he was too restless to consider it seriously. 

Once his calls were made and the second cigarette put out by the windowsill, Eggsy trudged back up the stairs and into the room he shared with Harry. He told himself it was because it was the closest one to him and his choices were fairly limited anyway, but perhaps it was a bit subconscious the reasoning behind the choice of his black suit. Putting it on and focusing completely on doing so properly, he hesitated a moment before grasping and tugging on his silver and blue vest as well. Now that the small protrusion of his stomach was gone, it fit comfortably again. He tucked in his tie, also silver and blue, the colours of Excalibur, and put on his glasses, though he kept the feed resolutely off. While he didn't know Merlin very well on a personal level, if Harry saw him getting ready like this, he might have a few words for him about 'taking his time' and 'resting another day.'

Styling his hair and putting on cologne, it was as though he was getting ready to go in for the day, and at 14:00. But that was for the best. Eggsy didn't expect to be back home for... a while. After making a quick pit stop at a drugstore for two packs of cigarettes and a large bottle to refill the decanter in his office, he was right back at Kingsman and sitting before his desk just a few hours after his incident. He turned his glasses back on just in case, but said nothing into them, simply pulled a pile of waiting paperwork towards himself and began working.

All the other times up until now when he had hurt, Eggsy had been a bit dramatic about it. Stealing cars, getting drunk with friends in a pub, buying and smoking pot in his room as he non-stop marathoned some of his favourite games. But that all seemed too childish. He was in his office, in his bespoke suit, doing work for a spy agency. He didn't have time to waste on displays of immaturity. This time he was going to work through it differently: by drinking this bottle he had bought over the next 36 hours wherein he would not stop working unless he absolutely had to, forgetting to eat, and smoking enough cigarettes that the smell would linger in the office for another three days.

At least this way, they were catching up. They had almost gotten on top of the workload that had piled up on their break, and now Eggsy was looking into other missions to send agents on. 

One in particular caught his eye. They were considering sending an agent to Italy, for information gathering purposes mostly, though there was a risk of danger should the bodyguards that were supposed to be guarding the ambassador catch wind of anything suspicious. It sounded perfect for Eggsy. Hint of danger, mostly diplomatic, and most importantly, not here. It might even take upwards of four to six days. Perfect.

After the fifth straight day of Eggsy’s working with only returning to the house for a six-hour nap and a shower when he felt near collapse, he decided to go for it. Harry had to approve it, obviously, but the deadline to leave was coming up, and if Harry said no, he had to find a replacement. Professional if a bit tired-looking around the eyes, Eggsy made his way to Harry's office with the file in the crook of his elbow, knocking at the door.

-

Cramped limbs would have eventually forced Harry to move even if the weight and responsibility of his job hadn't. As it was, he couldn't help feeling a growing sense of guilt at the fact that Merlin was essentially taking on both of their jobs for a second time while they tried to recover. Still, it was only reluctantly that he gave Eggsy's hand one final squeeze and climbed out of the hospital bed, pausing in the doorway to look back at him. He opened his mouth, almost said something, but closed it and headed for the lifts without saying anything. If Eggsy wanted to talk, he knew where to find him.

It was only hours later that he received the notification that Excalibur's feed had been reactivated, and he sighed heavily. He couldn't blame Eggsy, not when he'd dealt with his grief the exact same way so many years earlier. Eggsy would have to face whatever guilt he might be feeling on his own. He pulled up Eggsy’s feed, watching as he bent to his paperwork silently, switching it off an hour or so later when nothing changed. Sighing, he poured himself a glass of scotch, getting back to his own work.

Thankfully, their slight delay hadn't put them far behind; having the two of them really did make things so much easier in respect to maintaining the position. Focus could be turned to more recent missions, more attention paid to them than older ones they had still been trying to process.

Harry didn't see much of Eggsy excepting on the few occasions when they had debriefings together or crossed each other's paths at the house, the few hours Eggsy was there. All he could offer him was a silent reassurance that he was there anytime he needed him to be, but Eggsy didn't seem inclined to take him up on the offer, and Harry had nothing to say, no words of comfort that would erase what had happened.

It was, however, beginning to reach a breaking point. For five days Eggsy had relentlessly thrown himself at Kingsman, and he was wearing himself out. Merlin had let Harry last a week when he'd been going through his divorce, but Harry didn't know if he was willing to give his husband the same. That night, he decided, he'd sit Eggsy down and see if they couldn't work through it somehow.

He'd just decided on that when there was a knock on the door, and he glanced up. "Come in." 

Eggsy opened the door, his head slightly tilted with a faint smile as he stood there, though unlike so many times before, this time he did not lean on the frame. "Hey. Could I get a quick word?" 

"Of course, Excalibur," Harry said, nodding permission for Eggsy to come into the office. He set his pen off to one side, looking up at him expectantly.

Eggsy stepped in, pulling the folder into his hands and opening it, flipping through a bit as he walked to stand next to one of the chairs facing Harry’s desk. "Wanted to talk about the mission we got slated to send off tomorrow, the one going to Italy. I know I dropped off something for you on it a week or so back, but I know you've had lots coming in and out. I brought you a new copy if you wanted to take a look at it," he said, offering over a few papers. "We still gotta assign someone." He left off rather ambiguously, waiting for recognition of what he was talking about before he bowled onward.

Vaguely recalling seeing something about Italy in the past few days, Harry knew it was a lost cause to try and remember any of the finer details. That in mind, he accepted the copy Eggsy handed over to him, taking a moment to read through the particulars. He flipped the folder closed, handing it back up to Eggsy when he was done. "Bors should be able to handle something like this. It will be a good way to ease him back into things after Barcelona."

"True," Eggsy said as he took the file back and actually sat down, letting it rest in his lap as he crossed one ankle over his other knee. "But I was actually thinking you should send me, instead."

Harry, who had reclaimed his pen and started working again, looked up at that. "You," he repeated flatly, no trace of a question in his voice.

"Me," Eggsy replied airily, his eyebrows raised as he looked innocently at Harry.

For a moment Harry didn't reply, watching Eggsy through narrowed eyes. "No," he finally stated, turning back to the papers he'd twice abandoned.

"You wanna give me a reason as to why?" Eggsy’s tone remained professional and complacent, but mentally he was already pulling up the various arguments and counter arguments he'd thought of when Harry inevitably denied him.

Sighing, Harry didn't bother setting his pen back down, just held it loosely as he returned his gaze to Eggsy. "Because missions like these only come along once every so often, and Bors needs something of this scale. And we both know you're neither at your physical or mental peak, so there isn't any point trying to argue; I'm not authorizing you to go to Italy."

"Even admittedly somewhat emotionally distraught recently, that wouldn't be getting in the way of the physical and mental capabilities needed for this." Still calm, Eggsy’s jaw still clenched briefly at the flat refusal. "It makes sense for Arthur to send Excalibur on this. And Bors will have other opportunities."

Narrowed eyes met Eggsy's. "Emotionally distressed, yes, and if you've looked in a mirror lately, you'll know that you haven't been getting enough sleep either. And if there will be other missions for Bors, there will be other missions for you as well. Assign him to it. Or am I going to have to do it myself to see that it gets done?" Harry asked, voice thick with meaning.

Eggsy gritted his teeth. One of the few parts of his job that was completely set in stone was that he answered to Arthur, and he had the final word on matters.

Even when it was fucking wrong.

Eggsy didn't even get to launch into any of his full reasonings or arguments; he had just been shot down because he looked a little tired. And sure he'd been getting three hours a night max on average, but he could do this, he knew he could. And he needed it, something to get a break from everything for just a little bit. But Harry had denied him, and that was that. He held the folder as he stood, replacing it in the crook of his elbow, standing a bit more stiffly than before, though determined not to let emotions bubble to the surface. He wasn't pregnant, he didn't get to have them that strongly anymore. "Yes, Arthur. Am I dismissed?" His jaw clenched briefly.

Well aware of the disappointment he'd caused Eggsy, justified though it might have been, Harry closed his eyes briefly as he stood. "Not just yet," he said, detaining him. He stood as well, leaning over the desk with his palm laid flat on the wood, giving Eggsy his full attention. "I know you're disappointed but I can't, in good conscience, send you back out without knowing that you're ready. Once you've proved that well enough, I'll send you out, but not before then, do you understand? I won't risk you being killed or captured just because you feel restless.”

Eggsy looked at Harry for a few moments, considering him. He supposed that was a fair enough point, but he did not at all like it. Still annoyed that he had been shut down without so much as being able to defend himself, he responded anyway. "With respect, sir, I'm unclear on how I am meant to prove my capability." When you won't let me, he added mentally. He wouldn't be killed, and he wouldn't be captured; he'd proved himself enough in the only mission he'd been on, and this was far easier than that one. 

Sighing, Harry straightened back up. "When you've slept for eight consecutive hours and said five words to me that don't have anything to do with work, then maybe I'll consider it," he said.

Eggsy pressed a palm to his forehead, letting his shoulders sag a bit. Harry was right about that, definitely. He hadn't been doing much other than work, thinking about work, burying himself in work. It was like he was afraid that if he stopped, it all would catch up to him. He sighed. "...i'm sorry, Harry. I'm just-- I mean, you know what I'm doing." His accent came back full swing as he let Excalibur slip for the first time in days.

Yes, technically they were at work and, yes, technically he was Arthur, but at the moment, Harry didn't much care. He slipped around his desk until he could face Eggsy. "I do. Which is why I can't let you take this mission to Italy. It might help Bors. It won't help you."

Eggsy rubbed the back of his neck, frowning to himself. "I had a whole list of things and reasons why Arthur should send me. But off the record, I was really hoping that a change of scenery of any kind would be enough to help me move on and deal with it. I can't promise eight hours because I don't like sleeping. I--" He exhaled a sort of sigh as he shook his head, lifting his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, yeah, I'll put Bors on it, it's fine."

"Eggsy..." Harry exhaled. "If you need a change of scenery, then get one.  _ Off  _ company time. You were back at work hours after... what happened, and you haven't stopped since. Give yourself a break," he said, resting his hand on Eggsy’s arm.

Eggsy didn't want to stop working. That was just it. If he did, he'd drive himself crazy. He would feel compelled to tell his mother -- he still hadn't -- and relive it all and set himself back rather than pushing him forward. He wanted  _ Excalibur _ to have a change of scenery, and maybe he would bring Eggsy back with him.

But he said none of this to Harry. Not now, and not after he'd already clearly made his decision. Maybe Harry would understand, maybe not. "I'm gonna get back to work then. Budget an hour for me at home?" They probably did need to talk. 

It was the most satisfying thing Harry could hope for at the moment, and he gave Eggsy a nod, hand falling away. "You're dismissed," he said wearily, seating himself back in his chair. 

Smiling lightly, Eggsy settled the folder in his arms again and nodded once as he made his way to the door. He paused only for a moment before he was gone again, making for his office once more. Though diving headfirst into it all again somehow wasn't quite as appealing as before, now that he stopped even for half a second to take a breath.


	33. An Apolog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter deals strongly with feelings of guilt caused by the miscarriage, but this is the last chapter where the topic is a primary focus. it will touch on details throughout the rest, but they will be fleeting

The rest of the day seemed to drag, Harry unable to focus on what he was supposed to be doing. He kept thinking of the way Eggsy had looked when he'd refused him his mission, the way his voice had sounded when he'd asked for an hour at home. The talk they'd had had done little in clearing up all the issues still lying between them, and Harry was looking forward to getting everything out and cleared. He couldn't take watching Eggsy slowly burying himself deeper and deeper into work in an attempt to not think about what had happened. 

Christ, they still hadn't even told Michelle. Every so often he got a text from her asking some question or giving some little hint or piece of advice, but he'd taken to ignoring them, no matter how rude it might have seemed. She would have to be informed, yes, but a text message was not the way to do it.

Eventually, however slow it seemed to move, time did wind down until it was a reasonable hour to pack up and go home. He stopped by Excalibur's office on the way to the lifts, knocking lightly on the door. "Eggsy? You wanted an hour," he reminded him.

Eggsy had been sitting at his desk, no surprise there, tablet propped up on a triangular stand playing a news broadcast while his laptop lay open beside it. His eyes were narrowed as he looked at its glowing screen, scribbling on a notepad lying atop a spread of papers. When Harry spoke, he started, blinking his eyes into focus as he looked up at him. "Oh shit," he muttered, taking the glasses off again and rubbing at his eyes. "Right. Two seconds." 

After powering down both the laptop and the tablet, Eggsy stood, slinging the suit coat he'd hung around his chair back on his body as he finally left his desk.

Eggsy had taken a while to get back into it, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands as he thought about this honestly, and for the first time since it happened, let the grief hit him. It wasn't as heavy now, the loss still a sting but not as sharp. And he missed Harry. As much as it hurt him, Harry must be hurting too, and he could use Harry there with him if he couldn't run away from his problems. Once he'd come to the conclusion that he was ready to talk about it, he got back to work, less feverishly than before but still enough to make him utterly lose track of time. Had he not been interrupted, he might have kept working for another three hours without notice.

Joining Harry at the door when everything was turned off and the lights were out, Eggsy gave him the same sort of tired and slightly apologetic smile, walking the hall with him to the lift and trying his best to leave Excalibur behind in the office.

It was clear that Eggsy had been working feverishly up until the last second and was unwilling (or unable) to fully leave it behind even as he was exiting the office. The smile Harry got wasn't exactly genuine, but it was at least an attempt, one he wasn't quite able to manage returning.

Tension was clear in every line of his shoulders even as they waited for the lift, and Harry suspected Eggsy wasn't fully out of his work yet, mind lingering even if his body couldn't. The lift arrived and they stepped inside, doors sliding closed with a soft ding. Almost as soon as they were shut, Harry turned, one arm sliding around Eggsy's back, the other cupping the side of his face. He kissed him feverishly, realizing then that he hadn't actually done so in quite a long time.

"Mm-!"

Eggsy was more startled by the sudden attack than he had been by the disturbance in the office, not having thought Harry would do anything of the sort today, let alone in the lift while still at work. In his surprise, his hand instinctively grabbed Harry's shoulder for support and balance as he caught up to him, his lips responding more quickly than the rest of him. He kissed him back as his eyes slid shut, letting his brain turn off if only for the duration of the unexpected but not unwelcome kiss.   

Harry didn't break away until the lift shuddered to a halt, standing back just as the doors opened. The hallway beyond was empty, so it wouldn't have much mattered, but he would still prefer not to be caught snogging his second while on duty.

When they parted, colour had risen in Eggsy’s cheeks a little, and though he was on top of it enough to be prepared when the doors opened for people to be waiting, he was relieved they weren't. He stepped out cool as ever, though it couldn't be denied that the brief but intense kiss brought a little life back into him.

Harry stayed by Eggsy as they made their way out of headquarters, wanting to kiss him again, but also wanting to get home as soon as possible.  

Eggsy said nothing until they made their way to the car waiting for them. He slid into the furthest seat, exhaling as the door clicked shut. It was kind of a feeling of relief leaving this time.

Given that he and Eggsy had been leaving at different times to come and go to Kingsman, Harry had taken to actually driving the Aventador to work, occasionally passing the keys off to Eggsy so he could bring it home when they didn't leave together. He let the silence permeate the air between them, willing to wait for his husband to make the first advance into the conversation he needed, but might not have wanted, to have as he started the car and headed for their house. 

But Eggsy didn't want to, not yet. He let his head rest against the seat, looking straight ahead in a sort of relaxed silence. He knew he was going to need to dredge it up, pull out the feelings he'd been repressing for days, but not yet. For now, he just wanted to be with Harry and slow himself down, and he reached over to touch his knee gently, absently, as just a way of touching him.

Harry took one hand off the steering wheel, letting it fall to rest on top of Eggsy's in the only sort of comfort he was capable of offering at the moment. 

It was only a matter of moments before he was pulling the car to a halt in front of their home, and he cut the engine and glanced over at Eggsy. 

Still, he was reluctant to say anything. Squeezing Harry’s knee and giving him a small smile, Eggsy climbed out of the car and walked up to the front door, unlocking it and letting them in with a jingling of keys.

Once inside however, it seemed he was out of excuses and ways of putting off the conversation, so he rubbed the back of his neck as he unbuttoned his suit coat and slung it over his arm, and loosened his tie. "So... I guess I should actually say that I'm sorry I've been so buried in work and distant the last week or so."

Harry followed Eggsy into the house, shutting the door behind him and wondering if he was just going to have to bite the bullet and start this off himself. Then Eggsy spoke and he paused in taking off his jacket, blinking. "You don't have to apologize for anything," he said.

Eggsy toed his shoes off and walked to a nearby chair, draping the jacket there instead and rolling up his sleeves as he answered. "I may not have to, but I want to. I won't bother justifying it, cause you already know why I did what I did, but I feel bad for just shutting down after... what happened." Actually there was probably a lot he felt he needed to apologize for, but he doubted Harry would accept any of them, just as he didn't accept this one.

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked over at Eggsy, the apology running through his head. "Alright," he sighed after a moment, making his way to the sofa and seating himself across from him, elbows resting on his knees. "Apologize if you want. For anything that you think is your fault, tell me you're sorry. I won't contradict you, I won't try and convince you you're not at fault, I'll just sit here and listen." 

Eggsy blinked. That wasn't at all how he thought Harry would want this to start off, primarily because yes, he thought Harry would do all of those things. Interrupt him, insist he was wrong, which yes, he likely was. It was logical that no one was at fault, that it really was “just one of those things”. But logic had nothing to do with this. This was an emotional thing, and Eggsy couldn't control what he felt, try though he might to logic away the absurdity. So fine, he could do that. He could get it out that way in one of those rambling emotional rants he seemed to be so adept at, he thought almost bitterly to himself.

Eggsy sat down in the seat, leaning back in his usual slumped posture as if that would help things. "...i'm sorry I went back to work right after I left hospital. That I pushed myself to get right back into it and didn't sleep for a day and a half after the meds wore off. I'm sorry that I've basically been living off of alcohol, med bay drugs, cigarettes, and two scones this entire time because I didn't really want to eat." 

His leg began bouncing, and he looked away from Harry to stare at the rug beneath the coffee table rather than meet his eyes. "I'm sorry I put off telling my mum about this, because I know if she's hounding me this much about it, she's probably hounding you too. I'm sorry that you were right, and I didn't talk to you about anything other than work for days, and that I didn't talk to anyone else at all if I could help it. I'm sorry that for awhile there I made myself stop seeing you as my partner and only see you as my boss because I didn't want to look at the husband I'd disappointed... I'm sorry I didn't spend time with you or let you spend time with me because all I could think about when I wasn't staring at papers on my desk was all the blood between my legs and the fact that somehow I fucked it up." 

Eggsy was picking up steam now, voice getting louder, less filtered as he let everything just come falling out. "I'm sorry I got fucking knocked up in the first place, that I made you fuck me without a condom and I didn't take the right steps when we was done because I felt getting back to Kingsman was more important. I'm sorry I hadn't originally planned on telling you at all, adn I'm sorry the thought flashed through my mind even for a moment when Merlin first told me to just get rid of it without you ever knowing. I'm sorry I didn't go right to medical when I was feeling off that day, that I wrote it off, even the cramping at the meeting, and didn't go right away." 

Voice quieter again, Eggsy’s jaw clenched and unclenched before he continued. "...i'm sorry I lost the baby. That I didn't get there in time or I fucked something up while I was pregnant or that my body just ain't fit for it. I'm sorry it got away from me, and we couldn't save her, and that we never got to meet our child... I'm sorry I keep calling it 'her', and even now I can't stop, because I got so attached, imagining a little girl with my eyes and your curls and thinking I killed her.... Fucking hell." He sighed, rubbing at his face and sinking a little lower in his chair.

True to his word, Harry sat and listened, no matter how torturous it might have been. His nails dug into his palms as Eggsy's list unrolled further and further and he realized just how much blame he'd been heaping on his own shoulders all that time. It seemed Eggsy had ascribed every aspect of the pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage to his own shortcomings, but he forced himself to swallow down the protests that came bubbling to his lips. He'd promised Eggsy he would let him say what he had to and he intended to keep that promise.

It helped, in a way, to know where Eggsy's mind had been the whole time. He'd stared at Eggsy a few times trying to puzzle out what could possibly be running through his head but he hadn't expected anything like this, hadn't expected him to have been holding in a veritable flood of guilt. He visibly winced when Eggsy apologized for getting knocked up, knowing full well the role he'd played in that. And he nearly couldn't bite back a 'that's not something to apologize for' when he started in about calling their baby a girl.

Eventually, however, Eggsy ran out of steam and trailed off, scrubbing a hand over his face and slouching into his seat. Harry stayed where he was for a moment, uncurling his hands from the fists they'd formed, letting out a long, low breath. 

Once he felt a little more composed, he got up and kneeled in front of Eggsy, potential soreness be damned. He pulled Eggsy’s hand away from his face, curling his own around them and clearing his throat so Eggsy would look at him. "I forgive you," he said, voice quieter than he had intended. "For all of it." 

When Harry took his hand away, Eggsy pressed his lips together in a thin line and looked up when his attention was demanded. A lump formed in his throat, making it almost difficult to breathe let alone speak. The sadness he had been suppressing hit him like a truck, and his hands slid out of Harry’s grasp to wrap around his chest as he slid forward in his seat to press his face into his neck. He held onto his husband, unable to speak just yet, willing his guilt away little by little at Harry's words.

Harry held onto Eggsy, letting him take whatever time he needed. His hands smoothed up and down his back soothingly and he didn't say anything, just let him go through what he was going through. 

After a few minutes of just holding onto him, Eggsy’s grip loosened and he let out a breath he'd been holding onto, pulling back to look at Harry. "And I'm sorry for that," he added, teasing this time, and pressed their foreheads together gently for just a moment. "Thank you."

Harry couldn't quite bring himself to laugh, but one corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. "The next time you find a mission similar to the one in Italy, consider it yours." 

"If you make me do that every time I want a mission, I ain't going out much." Eggsy pressed a kiss to his lips, forcing himself to be brief lest he not break away at all.

Harry lifted his eyes to the ceiling once Eggsy broke away, half inclined to chase after him and recapture his lips. "Or give yourself something a little less... entry level. You're capable of handling tougher missions." 

"Oh I know. That's why I was so offended you wouldn't give it to me. I kick arse, and we both know it." More teasing. Being rid of the weight of his guilt even somewhat (truthfully it would take a few days to really completely lift away) was a great help.

Harry looked over him with soft eyes, reaching out to rest his hand lightly on Eggsy's cheek. His thumb brushed over his bottom lip and a genuine smile edged onto his face for the first time in... he didn't know how long, actually. Five days, at least. "I love you," he breathed. 

It was quite reassuring that after over a year of marriage, albeit being a real couple for only a few months, and all the shit that had happened over that time, that whenever Harry looked at him like that, Eggsy’s heart still fluttered a bit. At Harry’s words, he smiled back, feeling something akin to happiness, and leaned in to steal a kiss, this time not breaking away.

Moaning, Harry leaned into it, hand sliding from Eggsy’s face to grip the back of his neck. It really had been a while since he'd gotten to kiss Eggsy like this and he was going to take full advantage of it while he could. 

Not having the threat of a soon-to-be-opening lift to pressure them to stop, Eggsy wasn't planning on pulling away. He’d missed this; kissing Harry was one of his favourite things to do, and it felt like ages since he'd last been able to. Hands slid around to his back, fingers curling into his shirt as he leaned into him despite the awkward angle with one seated and one kneeling.

Harry's chest pressed against Eggsy's, and he lifted up onto his knees, free arm wrapping around his back. He tugged at Eggsy gently, pulling at him and moving backwards, dragging him down to the floor with him.

Eggsy followed his hinting gesture easily, getting up and on his knees and down to the floor in a fluid motion, doing his best not to break the kiss as he went. His hands only let go of Harry when he had to, keeping contact with him all the while.

"I love you," Harry panted when he had to pull away to breathe. He leaned in, planting a kiss to Eggsy’s jaw, under his ear, on his neck. "Nothing would ever make me stop," he promised.

Harry could say it a hundred times in a row, and every time he did Eggsy would still feel warm inside. And though he might have his doubts that that was true, for now he let himself believe it, because it was true for him as well. One of his hands went to run through Harry's hair as he kissed his neck and face, his eyes closed as he let the words wash over him, lips twitching into a smile. "I love _ you, _ " he sighed, holding onto him.

Harry kissed his lips again before placing his hands on either side of Eggsy's legs, bracketing him in. The mood turned slightly more serious as he gazed at him intently. "I've forgiven you, Eggsy, for everything you said you did, but that's not the important thing here. You need to forgive yourself."

"I'm trying," Eggsy sighed, looking up at him with a frown edging out his smile. "It's hard." His head and hands both hit the ground with quiet thumps and he chewed his lip. "...but I'm trying."

"That's all I can ask of you," Harry assured him quietly, knowing it needed to be said, but not appreciating the fact that it had driven Eggsy’s smile away. 

With the shifted mood, the miscarriage was on his mind again, so Eggsy looked down where Harry's hands were by his legs, one of his hands touching his forearm lightly in lieu of pulling him down to him again.

The signal was clear enough to Harry, and he shifted forwards so he was practically hovering over Eggsy, lips brushing against his lightly. 

Eyes closing as Harry pressed in close again, Eggsy tilted his head up to kiss him, his hand falling to the carpet as he just let himself lay there kissing him gently.

Harry's hand trailed up the side of his leg, running along until it reached the waistband of his pants where he hooked two fingers in, curled slightly. He held them there, content with just this after being without anything for so long.

Harry’s lips soft and pressing almost tenderly but solidly to his own and his body so close that he could feel his warmth easily within reach, Eggsy felt the return of a feeling of safety and stability he'd lost. Whether knowingly or not, Harry's words, actions, and presence tonight were helping him along to forgiving himself and his body, and, now at least, he wasn't worried that Harry was harbouring some amount of resentment or that his feelings were any different.

But none of that even mattered at the moment. With Harry so close by and no restrictions on him, his body acted of its own accord, both of his hands lifting to entangle in Harry’s hair, fingertips grazing his scalp. With the past week and work so intense for both of them the past three months, it was hard to remember a time where they really had time to be with each other, and Eggsy’s hands were happy to take the opportunity to re-discover things so simple, the feel of his hair and the softness of his skin. 

Shuddering slightly at Eggsy's touch, Harry skimmed his lips over the curve of Eggsy's jaw. "Do you remember," he began innocently, fingers sliding from his hips to the front of his abdomen, "that we didn't use to have this? There was a time when I wouldn't touch you." He undid the button of Eggsy's pants deftly as he spoke, using his words as a distraction.

It certainly worked. Eggsy focused mostly on what Harry was saying, the rest of his attention devoted to touching and feeling the softness of his hair. "All too well," he replied, his head tilting for Harry's lips. "And the most we had was this," he said as one of his hands fell from Harry’s hair, blindly sliding down his face to cup the side of it fleetingly.

Harry leaned in closer, lips nearer to Eggsy's ear. "I wanted to do more," he said, voice just above a whisper as his fingers tugged down Eggsy's zipper. "You are very tempting."

Eggsy’s hand kept moving, touching Harry’s neck and then down his back, what he could reach, his lips tugging up in a smirk. A shiver ran down his spine as it always did when Harry spoke so quietly and so close to his ear, and his hips tilted upward to make it a little easier when it caught up to his brain what Harry was doing down there. "Found it hard to imagine. You mostly hid it well," he teased lightly, voice quieter to match. 

"I've had a lot of experience hiding things," Harry pointed out, taking advantage of the new angle of Eggsy’s hips to pull his pants down to his knees. "And I was very intent on keeping most of my feelings from you."

"And how'd that work out?" Eggsy hummed, turning his head slightly to look down as his pants slid down, and back up to Harry with vague curiosity.

Harry paused, trying not to wince. "Rather well for a while, I think," he said, voice softer than it had been before. "Given how surprised you seemed when I first told you I loved you."

"Genuinely thought you might've forgotten it was me you was talking to," Eggsy said as he propped himself up enough to kiss Harry gently, faintly smiling at him. Then he wiggled his hips, his head tilting as his smile turned more to smirk. "That was your mistake, I know your tells now."

One eyebrow inched up slightly and Harry's hands rested lightly on Eggsy's hips. "I don't have any tells," he protested. 

Eggsy stilled, but grinned all the same. "Right, course, you've got none. Not a single tell to give you away. You've got it turned on completely masking you at all times. You caught me." One of his eyebrows raised to mirror Harry.

"That's what I thought," Harry said. He kissed Eggsy again, tugging at his boxers this time, fingers just skimming over the outline of his cock. 

That would have shut Eggsy up quite effectively had Harry’s lips not already done so. He kissed him back, spine tingling again as Harry hinted at touching him more than anything else. 

Normally Harry was one to tease, but it really had been a while. He peeled Eggsy’s boxers back until he could wrap his fingers around the base of his cock, giving him one long stroke right off.

Eggsy's breath hitched in his chest in surprise, completely having expected to suffer through almost-touches and teasing for a good while longer before Harry actually touched him, if indeed he did. He was quite happy to be wrong. Kissing him a little harder, his hips tilted again, silently requesting more.

Harry gave him what he asked for, slicking his hand over the head of Eggsy's cock and drawing it back down. He started up with a steadier pace than usual, relishing the press of Eggsy's lips against his own.

Eggsy moaned quietly against his lips, tongue pressing past Harry's without waiting for acceptance. His body started to feel warm, Harry’s hand quickly whipping him up, having been holding back somewhat assuming he would pull away for whatever reason. Maybe the time since they'd last done this. 

Once Harry felt Eggsy's tongue pressing at his lips, he opened them further, letting him in and tasting him in return. On his next stroke, he stopped near the head of Eggsy's cock, flicking his thumb over it quickly.

Breath catching again, Eggsy’s eyes squeezed tightly shut against the shiver of pleasure. While one arm kept him propped up to meet Harry for a kiss, the other pulled at him, fingers grasping his shirt again and wanting to pull him closer, though he refrained. He pulled back, not far from his lips. "Mm, what're you doing?" he hummed almost playfully, nipping his lower lip.

Laughing lightly, Harry paused his movements, eyes opening so he could see Eggsy. "I thought that was sort of obvious," he said.

Before answering, Eggsy huffed, very much not pleased with Harry’s stopping. Insistently, his hips tilted again. "Planning on giving me rug burn?" Again, he nipped his lip before pulling back a bit more to look at him with that playfulness in his eyes. 

Harry ignored the insistence of Eggsy’s hips, taking his hand away completely a moment later. "You're right," he conceded, hauling himself off the floor. "There are better places for this." And he leaned back down, scooping Eggsy up into his arms neatly and making for the stairs.

A look of surprise stole over Eggsy’s features the second Harry's arms wrapped around him and lifted him up, his arms automatically hooking around his neck for additional support. Once it became clear that Harry really did plan on carrying him, he grinned again, his head tilting to press kisses to his jaw and neck as he walked. 

Harry edged his way into their bedroom, bringing Eggsy straight to the bed and setting him down.

But Eggsy’s arms didn't release him, and he tugged, attempting to pull Harry down on top of him while he wriggled his legs, blindly kicking off his trousers the rest of the way.

Harry fell with him, supporting himself with one arm and reaching down with the other to help him with his trousers, letting them fall carelessly to the floor.

As soon as they were off, Eggsy settled back, contented again, pulling Harry in for another of the kisses he couldn't get enough of.

As Harry leaned over to kiss him, he returned his hand to Eggsy's cock, stroking a bit slower than he had been before.

As Harry touched him, Eggsy hummed into his mouth, enjoying the gentle pleasure of his hand and lips. His hands touched Harry's arms and back, grasping at him but not urgently or in any real push to get him to strip. He just liked feeling him there.

By contrast, Harry's free hand went immediately to the hem of Eggsy's shirt, tugging at it impatiently. "Off," he nearly growled, breaking their kiss.

Obediently, Eggsy's fingers went to the front of his shirt as he arched off the bed a little, flying down through the buttons to open it for him.

Once it was mostly unbuttoned, Harry pushed it off Eggsy's shoulders, bending his mouth to the newly exposed planes of his chest. His hand picked up its pace as his lips brushed over one of Eggsy's nipples. Slow and lingering would have to wait for another night.

Eggsy let Harry do as he wanted to him, his head falling back onto the bed as he moaned almost shakily. His hips rather suddenly tilted up into Harry’s hand. His chest wanted to push into him as well, though he kept a handle on that a little better. "Mm, fuck," he murmured quietly, lips twitching.

Harry's teeth flashed out briefly, just enough to catch on Eggsy's nipple and add a hint of pain as his grip on his cock tightened.

Eggsy’s breath caught audibly, the brief accents of pain shooting right to his cock. "Harry-" he said without much reason, wanting more even with every bit he gave him. Hands curled into his shirt again, tugging this time.

Taking that and the stutter in Eggsy’s breath as a sign that he'd done something right, Harry gave his other nipple the same treatment, swiping his tongue over it harshly afterwards. 

"Mm-" Eggsy exhaled sharply, unable to stop his chest from arching up into him this time. He really had missed Harry's hands and mouth on him, and in a weird way, he wished he could see it, and the glint of teeth and tongue on his body. " _ Harry, _ " he whined again, hips tilting up uselessly.

Then Harry's hands were off his cock, on his hips, pressing him back down into the bed. He slid down Eggsy’s body until he'd brushed past his prick and was settled between his inner thighs.

At first Eggsy had to bite back a groan, this time of frustration at the losses, but as Harry travelled down his body, he quickly propped himself up to watch him, head tilted, pink down to his neck.

Eggsy looked absolutely breath-taking like this, Harry thought as he trailed his fingers over his pale skin. Flushed and panting, stretched out in front of him and completely at his mercy if the look he was giving him now was anything to go by. He nuzzled into Eggsy’s skin before giving it a soft bite, not enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a mark, barely giving him time to process that before taking the head of his cock into his mouth.

The bite sent a shiver up Eggsy’s spine and before he had the chance to react to it more properly than a sharp intake of breath, Harry's lips were wrapped around him and the heat and wetness of his mouth enveloped the tip of his cock. He swore under his breath, his eyes transfixed on him.

Well aware that Eggsy was watching him, Harry slowly made his way down his length, running his tongue along as he went until he'd taken as much of him as he could. He pulled back, dipped back down, back up, down, until he was able to swallow him down fully.

" _ Shit, _ Harry," Eggsy groaned, biting down on his lip as he took in more and more of him. When he took him all, he moaned again, the hands that had long since abandoned his clothing clutching instead at the bed beneath him to keep from thrusting up into Harry’s mouth as he fell back to the bed. He wanted badly to keep watching him, but for now, his head fell back of its own accord.

Harry hummed around him, the only sound he could really make at the moment. As he started bobbing his head, the very tips of his fingers traced up the sensitive skin of Eggsy’s inner thighs, skimming over the bite mark he'd made earlier. 

The fingers creeping up his thighs made Eggsy’s legs spread a bit more for him. The slight tenderness of the bite mark spread to his cock mercifully and wonderfully still buried in Harry's mouth. He did wish Harry had left a myriad of bite marks on him; he loved it at the best of times, but especially now, the reminders on his skin that Harry loved and wanted him still would be quite welcome. As he bobbed on him, his air came in short, shallow, and uneven, his fists clenching the bedding and releasing it again.

Harry’s hands continued their slow, steady path, running along the junction of Eggsy’s thighs until he'd reached his balls. He skimmed his fingers over those too, giving them a slight tug just as he sank fully back down on his cock. 

Eggsy felt the tightening in his stomach, the heat building with every swipe of his tongue and touch of his fingers. "Harry-" he said again, this time in a sort of moaned warning. If he didn't stop or ease up, he was going to come soon, naked beneath a very clothed, very untouched Harry. 

Harry pulled off him slowly, giving the head of his cock one last swipe with his tongue as he did. "I know," he said wryly before licking a long stripe up his cock.

Being close, feeling the heat pooling in him and stretching but not quite snapping, Harry's easing up on him was maddening. Eggsy needed a kick over, not a slow decline. It felt as though it was right there within his grasp, but Harry wasn't giving it to him. He made a groaning noise of frustration this time, pushing himself to sit up a little, enough to look down at Harry as he huffed.

Knowing how much he was teasing him, Harry relented, returning the whole of his mouth to Eggsy's cock. The fingers that had been cupping his balls slid down until one was just teasing at his hole, circling the tight ring of muscle. 

The involuntary thrill of anticipation mixed with the suddenness of Harry's mouth on him was as good a kick as any, and Eggsy gasped. His head fell backwards and he swore, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” muscles taut as his fingers and toes both curled. Just as involuntarily as before, his legs spread a bit for Harry, almost wanting him to push into him in a wild thought of recklessness that flashed through his mind just as his body let go under the weight of everything, and he came with another gasp.

Harry didn't pull away until Eggsy was thoroughly spent, running his tongue one last time along the length of him before moving to lie beside him. 

Eggsy caught his breath, lifting a hand to rub at his face. Once Harry was settled beside him, he didn't bother repressing the urge to roll over half on top of him, his arm draped over his chest as he willfully lingered in the blissful, non-thinking stage. "Mm, thanks," he mumbled with a tired-sounding grin in his voice, hand gently resting on his chest. "I'd missed that," he sighed.

Humming quietly, Harry skimmed his fingers down the broad expanse of Eggsy's back, skin warm beneath his palm. "I'd missed it too," he agreed, tilting his head so he could better see him. 

Eggsy all but melted into Harry, the hand on his bare back keeping him a puddle of goo. Seemingly oblivious to Harry’s attempt to see him, he turned his face into his body a little more to sigh affectionately into him, letting his eyes close for the moment. 

Harry kept stroking down his back, hand occasionally dipping almost to the base of his spine, more than content to just hold him for a while. Eventually, however, the heat of him became less comforting and more stifling, at least in combination with the suit he still had on. Still, he was reluctant to move him. Eggsy looked more peaceful than he had in days, maybe weeks.  

After a while, Eggsy too was feeling like he could use a change in position -- or at least pants -- and he sat up after a gentle nuzzle of Harry’s chest. He inched across the bed until he could slide off and grab his boxers, tugging them back on before going right back to the bed and lying on his back, grabbing a pillow to rest his head on with his eyes closed again. 

Harry took the opportunity to rid himself of his more formal clothes, switching to just his flannel pyjama bottoms before joining Eggsy. 

This time Eggsy let him have his space, resisting the natural inclination he had to roll back over into Harry and soak up what touch he would give him in the small window of privacy they had. Instead, he yawned, one arm folding behind his head. 

"Have you been doing okay with it?” Eggsy asked after a few moments of silence, realizing they had been talking virtually exclusively about him and his feelings about it. Harry hadn't had it happen to him, no, but he had been expecting a baby that was his, the same as Eggsy was, and he'd been so buried in work he hadn't asked how Harry had been handling it. He actually had no idea if it was a sense of relief for him, sorrow, or something in between.

Harry had been expecting the question eventually, but it had been something of a relief to avoid it for a while, especially with the way Eggsy was feeling about it all. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling instead of over at Eggsy. "Slightly disappointed, I suppose," he finally said. "Not with you," he hastened to clarify, looking over at Eggsy. "Just with... the situation."

Eggsy’s eyes had slowly opened again in the silence of the interim, and he couldn't help but wince as Harry said 'disappointed.' Even though they had literally just got done assuring him that indeed Harry wasn't disappointed in  _ him,  _ the reaction was still involuntary. But still, he thought it through, mulling it over briefly. "Disappointed…." he echoed, also looking upwards with unfocused eyes. "Sort of looking forward to having one even though we didn't plan for it?" A guess partly, a hopeful one as he too had found himself disappointed under all the guilt.

"Yes," Harry confessed. "As poor an idea as it might have been, I must admit there was something appealing about knowing that he or she would have been entirely our own." 

"Yeah, I know," Eggsy agreed, puffing out a sigh. "I mean, it was bad timing, but..." he trailed off, frowning slightly to himself.

Harry couldn't help but let out a small snort of disbelief. "That's the only problem you saw with this? The timing?" 

"Could’ve been an actual knight," Eggsy sighed again, shaking his head. "I could’ve gone to Barcelona and Italy, and Bors could suck my dick." His head rolled over to look at him, huffing again for a moment. Then it passed, and he looked thoughtful. "Most of it would've worked out fine."

Side-eying him skeptically, Harry remained silent for a moment longer. "I'm twice your age, Eggsy. Nearly 55 years old. That sort of thing doesn't just work itself out," he finally muttered. 

"You ain't the one carrying it," Eggsy shrugged. "Beyond that, yeah, it does work itself out. Don't see why it wouldn't."

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face. "I'd be lucky to live until our child was thirty. And we both know how unlikely that is, given our profession. Once I'm out, you'll become Arthur; not an ideal position to parent from."  

"Shit happens." Eggsy shrugged, still holding his position. "I think I'm all the proof you need that kids can turn out alright through shitty parenting situations, absentee, busy work, death. And if either one of us died, I doubt the other would make the same mistakes my mum did." He paused a moment, knowing that probably didn't sound so good, but it was true. He continued on. "And I think, for me at least, I'd like whatever time I had with my kid. Our ages and occupation don't really matter so much. We could make it work." 

Eggsy had already thought this through when he had been pregnant. They hadn't had any choice then, but the principles still applied in theory. Together they really could make it work. And he couldn't deny how much he'd liked the notion of having a child with Harry that was, as he had said, entirely their own.

As Eggsy spoke, Harry's hand fell away from his face and he propped himself up to face him, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "No, I doubt we'd make the same mistakes. The problem is all the different ones we could make. But even if you were right and we could make it work, that's hardly relevant anymore," he pointed out, voice falling a bit near the end. 

As Harry fell silent, Eggsy looked at him, his eyes travelling over his face. His brown eyes, his darker hair, the slight cleft in his chin and the thinness of his lips. They'd made a kid together. It had gone badly, and he would remember the hurt and the idea of the little boy or girl who never got to be until his dying breath. But... once an idea was implanted, it was very hard to shake.

"Right now," Eggsy corrected quietly, lifting a hand to touch Harry's hair and the side of his face exceedingly gently.

Harry stilled as Eggsy's hand came to rest against the side of his face. He couldn't possibly be suggesting what he thought he was suggesting, not after all they'd just gone through. But Harry had rather gotten used to the idea of having a child, and his earlier point still stood. After a long, long moment, he exhaled, gazing intently into Eggsy's eyes. "We'd have to tell Merlin this time." 

"And he'd call us idiots," Eggsy agreed, lips twitching. His thumb traced over Harry's cheekbone lightly, the ramifications of what that would mean for work running through his head. Really... it was nothing different. They would return to the regiment they had been doing when he had been pregnant before. Merlin would be far from thrilled about this, the two most senior members actively working to make sure one of them was completely off field missions for nearly a year of carrying and a guaranteed leave of absence, but if it had worked before, they could make it work again. "But he'd get over it."

"We don't even know if it would work," Harry muttered, the words sticking in his throat, but he knew they had to be said. "Could you... I don't want you to go through this again," he said quietly, eyes closing, head leaning into Eggsy's touch. 

Eggsy's eyes briefly closed as well, knowing it was a very real question. This had hurt so badly, scarred him. If it happened again, it honestly might break him. It would definitely answer the question a resounding 'no' for the rest of his life. But his eyes reopened, and he answered after only a few beats' pause. "I... looked into it. It doesn't mean I can't. Or that it's likely to happen again. It just meant when we conceived that it was a bad time. And I can see why," he said with a twitch of his lips, remembering the chaos of that time. Probably the worst possible time there was.

That was true enough. Their life had been nothing short of hell for a while, and even when it improved, it hadn't exactly gotten  _ good _ . There had been a few brief moments when all was well before they'd plummeted back into it, and given Harry's track record he was beginning to think that was the rule and not the exception. "Give it a week. If you still want this, then... we'll try. But I can't promise anything more than that."

Eggsy’s hand slid from Harry’s face, and he smiled lightly at him. He wanted to give his body more time than that to recover anyway. The books and articles all said he would be ready in two to four weeks, but he definitely wanted to be sure he was ready. It didn't biologically matter, but if they were going to try again, he wanted to be sure he was in perfect condition, physically and as close as he could get mentally. "Kiss me?"

It certainly didn't take asking twice. Harry leaned over him, bending down to press a kiss to his lips lightly.

Eggsy closed his eyes as Harry pressed their lips together, kissing him for however long he was willing to give him.


	34. A Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eggsy tells michelle about the miscarriage. it doesn't go into detail, but the conversation is there

Harry let the kiss linger, eventually pulling back but not away, taking a moment to just stare down at Eggsy, eyes flitting over his face. "You always find new ways to surprise me." 

Eggsy looked up at him, his head tilting slightly as he smiled at him. "Mm?"

"I wouldn't have thought you'd have any more interest," Harry said by way of explanation, dipping in for another, briefer kiss. "But you've proved me wrong."

"Mm," Eggsy hummed as their lips reconnected, happy for it. "I wouldn't've thought I would either," he admitted, his hand going to lightly touch his stomach. "I'm blaming you."

"Mostly my fault anyways," Harry teased lightly, hand moving to rest over top of Eggsy's. 

Smiling in return, Eggsy hummed and looked down at their hands, letting a few moments pass before speaking again. "Is it alright if I come in a bit late tomorrow, you think? I'll need the car. Got something to take care of I've been putting off." Besides, now the spell of workaholism was broken, he didn't feel the same overwhelming compulsion to get back behind that desk. A couple hours of hooky might be best for all of them.

It wasn't difficult to guess what it was Eggsy was referring to -- there was really only one thing he'd been putting off lately -- but Harry conceded with a soft sigh. "Come in when you can. I'll be able to manage without you for a day." 

"I doubt that, I'm pretty great, you know," Eggsy said lightly, refusing to let the conversation venture into darker territory again. He'd have plenty of time to talk about depressing things and angst and worry about all of his problems tomorrow, and lord knows he'd done quite a lot of it in the past week. He'd just been wanting to tell Harry where he was going to be; he could and would do it on his own.

Moving suddenly, he pushed Harry over until he was lying on his back and followed after him, slinging one leg over Harry to straddle his waist. Grinning, he wiggled playfully. 

Harry's hands flew automatically to Eggsy's hips, anchoring him in place and suppressing a groan. He hadn't exactly been able to stop himself from getting worked up earlier, and that hadn't really died down.

"Hi," Eggsy said, leaning down to press his lips to the corner of Harry's mouth, his hands pressing down on either side of his shoulders to keep himself upright. In fake innocence, as with any innocence he displayed, his hips rocked back and forth in Harry’s hands, knees gently squeezing his waist. "Tired of sad shit," he murmured in explanation, lips brushing against his skin as he spoke. "Hope you don't mind." 

Harry couldn't keep back a moan as Eggsy’s hips settled into a rhythm, fingers grabbing at his hips. "No," he panted. "I'd much rather have you miserable and sulking."

"Mm, thought so," Eggsy hummed, ducking his head to press more kisses from Harry's jaw down to his neck, nuzzling his face in there. "You're gonna be disappointed for a while then," he added, rather pleased to be drawing noises from Harry so easily; he must have gotten worked up and stayed that way through holding him and the talks. Lucky him. 

"We all must live with some disappointments, I suppose," Harry sighed, shaking his head as if resigning himself to some terrible fate.

"Shut up," Eggsy snorted, nipping his neck. "Or you'll be disappointed again because I'm gonna roll off of you." In protest, he was motionless.

Harry's fingers tightened their grip as if to say that that wasn't going to happen while he still had a say in it. As Eggsy stilled, Harry moved, grinding himself up against him.

Not-so-secretly pleased Harry wasn't about to let him go, his empty threat was abandoned quite quickly, replaced with obliging and rolling his hips into him again. Determined to be playful and simply enjoy his husband, one of his hands went from propping himself up to tugging the hem of Harry’s pyjama bottoms and touching his side as he pressed his forehead into his neck.

Humming as Eggsy buried his face in his neck, Harry moved one hand up to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair. The other stayed on his hip to give him what support he could, perhaps sliding a little further down towards his arse. 

Eggsy hummed right back, unable to not relax and melt a little at the feeling of a hand in his hair and on his head. While he didn't want to stop touching Harry and feeling along his body, he also wanted to nudge his hand a little as he felt it inching over a bit. Regrettably, he did let go, nudging Harry's hand down a little bit more before returning to touching him.

Harry let out a bit of a laugh (slightly breathless, but who could blame him?), letting his hand settle fully over Eggsy’s arse. "Again?" he asked, one eyebrow inching upwards even if Eggsy’s face was still buried in his neck. 

"Again what?" Eggsy nuzzled his neck playfully, grinning into him and holding his rear steady so he could touch as he obviously wanted. "I'm just cuddling on top of my husband, dunno what you’re on about, 'again.'" 

"You know perfectly well what I'm on about," Harry huffed, squeezing him playfully.

Laughing once under his breath, Eggsy lifted his head from Harry’s neck and hovered over his face. He said nothing at first, simply looked down at him, and smiled at him like he just couldn't help it. And he honestly couldn't. His head bent down, connecting their lips in a kiss rather than answering him, and held onto Harry a little more tightly.

Harry's hold on Eggsy relaxed slightly as he focused more on the kiss. His tongue ran along Eggsy's bottom lip, not asking for anything, just tasting him.

His mouth opened anyway, jumping at the chance for a deeper kiss he could momentarily lose himself in. He stayed still, no longer moving deliberately, teasingly against Harry, and just kissed him rather slowly, his eyes closing.

The fingers threaded in Eggsy's hair carded through it instead, and Harry moaned lowly into the kiss, hips moving slightly of their own accord. The combination of Eggsy's heat and weight wasn't quite enough to satisfy him on their own.

Eggsy let Harry do as he liked, grinning internally as he felt him move around. He stayed focused on the kiss for the most part, making a quiet humming sound against him as his tongue happily reacquainted itself with the inside of Harry's mouth. Though he did let go of him and reach back to touch Harry's hand still on him and move it a little, subtly encouraging him to take advantage.

With Eggsy's urging, Harry grabbed at him again, simultaneously rolling his hips up as best he could. He pulled away from their kiss just long enough to catch his breath, teeth tugging at Eggsy’s bottom lip.

When the kiss broke, Eggsy made a quiet groan on an exhale, rubbing his hips down into Harry's again as his body surpassed his wishes. "What are you wanting, Harry?" he asked just above his lips, not wanting to move away too far because kisses were still an option and he would like more of those.

"Nothing, until you climbed on top of me," Harry said a little breathlessly.

"I'm manipulative like that, guess you never noticed." Eggsy grinned, pressing a light kiss to his lips.

Harry's hand moved from Eggsy’s arse to his hip, his other dropping from his hair to around his shoulders. Before Eggsy had time to comment on, or even think about, the new state of affairs, Harry had flipped him over neatly, landing him on his back and hovering over him. "You're not the only one," he said archly. 

Startled by the sudden movement, Eggsy blinked, looking up at Harry. His grin faltered as his back hit the bed but came right back as his brain caught up with it. "Mmm? I don't think you was manipulating me," he hummed contrarily, looking at him cheekily. "You're full of shit."

"Perhaps I am," Harry mused, head tilting slightly to one side as he gazed down at him. He rolled his hips down against Eggsy’s, outline of his cock just barely brushing against his. "Yet you still want me, so tell me, Eggsy, what does that say about you?"

Eggsy pressed his lips together in a line. A muscle in his jaw twitched as Harry rolled down into him, trying and failing to hold back a reaction. "That I'm a goddamned slut when it comes to you, full of shit or not?" Eggsy offered, one of his legs spreading a bit more to prop up on the bed and use as leverage as he more intentionally rolled back up into Harry, more insistent than he had been.

Laughing lightly both at Eggsy's description of himself and his obvious failure to keep back a reaction, Harry relented. He reached a hand down between them, cupping him with his palm.

"Mm~" Eggsy hummed with a grin, because even though Harry had just jerked him off a little while ago, there was very little that could get him not worked up with him. "Take off your pyjama bottoms." One of his hands was hooked around Harry's neck, holding onto him.

Harry reluctantly pulled his hand away from Eggsy in favor of hooking it in the elastic waistband of his pants and tugging them halfway down his hips. 

The instant he did, Eggsy's free hand reached down to touch and wrap around him as soon as he was free enough to allow it, immediately stroking and touching him like he'd been waiting and wanting to do so for hours.

Harry's breath hissed through his teeth at his touch, and a shudder ran through him. "Eggsy," he breathed.

Eggsy didn't relent, stroking Harry firmly with long and very deliberate movements of the hand and twists of the wrist, at a pace somewhere between slow and fervent. His eyes, however, were on Harry’s face, moving from his mouth to his eyes and back particularly as Harry hissed.

Given the state he had already been in and the skillful way Eggsy was stroking him, Harry felt heat pooling in his stomach embarrassingly quickly. He sank his teeth into his bottom lip just to have something else to focus on.

Eggsy watched, subconsciously sucking his own lower lip into his mouth and biting gently as he grinned, knowing what effect he must be having. He didn't let up either, if anything only doing more and sinking down a bit underneath him to get a better angle for his wrist.

The brief burst of pain from his lip didn't last long before Harry was back to panting, open-mouthed, eyes focusing blearily on Eggsy. "You aren't exactly fair, you know," he groaned.

Eggsy’s eyes were focused completely on Harry, hungrily almost. "Why's that?" he asked absently, his head tilting to press his lips chastely to whichever patch of bare skin was closest to him.

"Everything about you isn't fair," Harry said, eyes fluttering shut briefly.

"I try," Eggsy said with almost a laugh, letting his thumb swipe over the tip of his cock and rub underneath the head between strokes, smearing precum in the process.

"Fuck," Harry choked out almost involuntarily, head dropping onto Eggsy's shoulder. His hands fisted into the bedsheets, crumpling them.

"Mm," Eggsy hummed, clearly pleased, turning his head towards Harry's and stealing his ear between his teeth, nipping sharply but without meaning to cause any actual pain. One of his legs, the one having given him support a few minutes ago, wrapped around Harry’s waist, as if to pull him in closer despite needing the room for his hand to move. "Harry," he breathed quietly by his ear, his hips twitching though he paid them no mind.

Harry's hips bucked into Eggsy's grip and he let out a shuddering groan at the voice in his ear.

God, Harry's groans were like music to his ears. "Come on, love," Eggsy coaxed, his lips pressing gently to the soft skin just beneath the hinge of his jaw, his hand by contrast speeding up and growing more urgent. "On me, yeah?" he added, a grin in his voice, nipping at his ear again playfully and wiggling beneath him.

Harry's breath caught in his throat at that, stuttering through the next couple. "Christ, Eggsy, don't say things like that," he moaned. "Might actually take you up on it."

"Good thing I ain't joking. Do it, I want you to," Eggsy hummed, voice quieter so near his ear, the hand not on Harry’s cock reaching up to briefly tangle in his hair at the end of his words.

That was enough to push Harry over the edge, and his hands pulled the sheets taut as he came. White striped Eggsy's chest and stomach until Harry was spent and he rolled over to lay on the bed beside him.

Eggsy bit down on his lip as he felt the hot liquid hit his chest and stomach. He shivered despite the heat outside his body and in and let his eyes close as Harry lay down next to him. Taking a deep breath, he hummed to himself, and half-grinned as he spoke. "Mm... How were we ever not touching?" he almost laughed, letting a hand rest idly on his chest.

Harry glanced over at Eggsy, a smile tugging at the edge of his lips, one shoulder shrugging. After a beat of silence in which he ran an appreciative eye over Eggsy, he commented dryly, "Now you really look like my slut."

“Good. That's what I am." An eye cracked open and Eggsy turned his head to look at him, half-grin in place. "Believe it's in our marriage contract. I'm a slut for you, and you can come on me anytime you like," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Harry let his head loll to one side, eyebrows lifting. "I don't remember that part of the vows. I'm fairly certain I would have remembered the look on your mother's face when we got to that bit," he said. Then he got up off the bed, extending a hand out towards Eggsy. "Come on."

It took Eggsy a moment to take it, chuckling to himself at the mental image, but he did take it and reluctantly peeled himself off the bed. With the days past and the days ahead, he very much wished they could stay right there in bed together like. It sounded infinitely better than what he had to do tomorrow.

Tangling their fingers together, Harry led Eggsy towards the bathroom.

Holding onto his hand contentedly, Eggsy followed him. Much as he liked it as it happened, he did know it was going to get uncomfortable rather quickly. 

Harry turned the shower on, standing back a moment to let the water get warm as he shucked off his pyjama bottoms. 

Eggsy waited by the shower entrance, arms folded over his chest after he too tossed away his boxers, the coldness of being mostly naked for so long trumping the desire not to get sticky. 

After a moment, the water had warmed up enough to be comfortable and Harry stepped inside, moving mostly out of range of the water to give Eggsy room.

He stepped in right after Harry, drawn to the warmth and the steam, and deliberately took up the water's flow to start to wash away the sticky substance from his front and his arms and fingers, wrinkling his nose. "This is the worst part of that," he sulked, his hands brushing down his front several times.

Chuckling, Harry stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and smoothing his hands down Eggsy’s chest to help. "I won't do it too often, then," he promised, pressing a kiss just underneath his jaw.

Eggsy’s eyes closed momentarily at the kiss and the arms, allowing himself a moment to simply enjoy the feeling. "I didn't say that," he grinned, letting his arms rest gently on top of Harry's when they stopped moving.

"Well, when we do start trying to get pregnant..." Harry pointed out, arms tightening their grip slightly.

Eggsy smiled to himself, the thought of getting pregnant this time a bit of a thrill. "Could be wrong, but I think the point of that is for it to stay in," he said, looking down at their arms.

"Exactly," Harry agreed, slowly letting his arms unwind from around him.

Eggsy hummed once, regrettably letting his arms drop as well. The thought was exciting; it would be a thrill to be able to be irresponsible on purpose, to say fuck the condom and mean it. And a regular sex life would be nice, especially since he doubted Harry would want to do anything once he inflated up.

The 'if' was deliberately left out, even in his thoughts.

Harry ran his eyes appreciatively over what he could see of Eggsy's body. It hadn't really changed any; the baby hadn't grown enough to do anything more than swell his stomach a little, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what about him would change. He was already contemplating how he would start rediscovering him as he reached for the soap.

-

The night remained uneventful after that, but Eggsy felt much better after letting all the guilt he had been piling up on his shoulders more or less go free. He still hadn't fully forgiven himself, but he wasn't thinking about it every second he had of silence, and that was a step forward. 

Harry had been wonderful in giving Eggsy something to distract himself and being that comfort and stability he needed but had been denying himself. A lot had happened, but there were only a few things left to do before Eggsy could move on with his life. He spent that night sleeping beside his husband for the first time in what felt like ages, curled up with a pillow to his chest and a finger lightly hooked around one of Harry's.

-

Predictably, as Eggsy had known would happen, he awoke the next morning alone in bed. He had gone so long without sleep, it wasn't any wonder that feeling secure and safe meant that he’d slept like the dead, out for a solid eight hours, longer than usual nowadays. Harry's getting up hadn’t even disturbed him as it usually would have, and he didn't wake until the room was bright with sunlight.

Eggsy peeled himself out of the covers in a nice, dulled refreshment, feeling truly like it was morning and a new day at last. It was only 10 A.M, and despite the shower last night, he showered again in the morning to massage his muscles, leaving the blinds wide open and flooding the white bathroom with the light he wanted. And although he was planning on visiting his mother, he thought he should be ready to go into Kingsman later on, so maybe now was the time for her to see him in his suit. He dressed, styling his hair and putting on his glasses though not activating the feed just yet, and grabbed the keys to the Aventador that Harry had left for him on the side table. He smiled to himself for the first time in a while. This conversation was going to be hard, but he could do it.

Eggsy pulled out his phone and sent off a text message to Harry as he climbed in the car. 

_ hey. i'll be in whenever mum decides to let me go. i love you. _

He never texted Harry anymore, not when they were together or on duty most of the time. But he felt like it today, needing to tell him the words for himself more than Harry.

When Eggsy pulled up to his mother's house, he realized he had forgotten to phone ahead yet again. Ah well. She didn't work anymore really, and Daisy was in preschool already. She would likely be in there watching television or other things he didn't care to think about. He wouldn't be intruding on much. 

Grasping the coffee from the name-brand store he'd swung through on his way over in lieu of making a pot at home or gulping down whatever tea Michelle would be drinking, he climbed the stairs and rapped on the door a few times.

After some shuffling, he heard the locks sliding open, and the surprised yet happy face of his mother greeted him. "Eggsy! My days, look at you," she said, stepping back to let him step inside, which he did. "I haven't seen you in a suit like that since... Cor, I can't even remember."

"My wedding, mum," Eggsy chuckled, remaining standing for the time being. "I wear this fancy get up almost every day, now."

"Right, the tailoring job,” Michelle smiled, locking all the locks on the door as she reentered her kitchen, picking up the water bottle she had evidently been drinking from.

"I'm actually heading there after I'm done here, I just wanted to have a quick word before work," Eggsy said, then took a sip of his coffee.

"Eggsy, babe, you shouldn't be drinking caffeine," Michelle frowned, turning around to open a cabinet and grab a clean glass. "I'll get you some lemon water."

"Actually, mum..." Eggsy raised a hand to stop her, and she turned around. His smile fell from his face, and he set down his cup. "We need to talk."

Michelle frowned and cocked her head, but she walked over as Eggsy pulled out the chair across from him, sitting down. "What's wrong, love?"

Sitting back down in his chair, Eggsy held the cup of coffee in his hands gingerly, looking down at the cup as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I'm... sorry, that Harry and I have both been avoiding your calls and texts the past week or so. But something came up, and I didn't know how to tell you about it until now."

It looked as though Michelle wanted to say something, like guesses were occurring to her left and right, but before he could let her jump to conclusions, he plowed on ahead. "...mum, last week I got rushed to the hospital for severe cramping in my stomach. The doctors did all they could, but I lost the baby." 

Her mouth fell open in an 'o' shape, but again, Eggsy kept talking. "I'm sorry for not telling you, but I've been avoiding everything and everyone left and right because I didn't think I could talk about it yet. And I still don't really want to, but there it is. I miscarried."

Michelle lifted a hand to her mouth, her eyebrows tilting upward in sympathy or pity, Eggsy wasn't sure which. "Oh, Eggsy..." She reached across the table to take one of his hands away from his cup, holding it in hers instead. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I knew how to help you..."

Eggsy smiled lightly, squeezing her hand. "I'll be fine, mum. I just, you know, wanted to let you know."

"It'll all be okay. ... Maybe it's for the best, though," Michelle sighed with a nod.

Eggsy’s smile immediately dropped, his eyebrows pulling together. "How do you mean?"

"Well," she started, looking uncomfortable but protective. "A baby... is a lot of responsibility. It's not like a pet, it's a life-long commitment."

"And?" Eggsy’s voice came out a little harsher than he meant it to, but her tone was sending up red flags in his mind, and his grip on the cup tightened somewhat.

"It's just... I don't think you would've done this if it hadn't just suddenly happened. And now you don't have to do this, and you can take steps to make sure it don't happen again, like maybe a vasectomy--"

"We're gonna try again, mum,” he said rather deadpan, his eyes narrowed as he pulled his hand from her grasp. "Soon as my body is ready for it, we talked it over, and we're gonna try again."

"Oh, Eggsy, be reasonable," Michelle said with a frown, folding her arms across her stomach. "Don't let him talk you into this, I know you never wanted kids of your own."

"Yeah, I didn't want to get married, either. Harry changed my mind about a lot of things. I wanted to,  _ I  _ brought it up." Eggsy was trying to keep himself under control, but she was starting to make him feel like a misbehaving 14-year-old again, not the perfectly autonomous married man that he was.

Michelle was getting animated now, sitting upright in her chair and leaning on the table towards him, as she had done when he was younger to discipline him. "He's twice your age, Eggsy! Arranging a marriage that happened to work out is one thing, but you should not be having kids with him. Think of the baby, if nothing else. He or she'd have two dads of two generations and classes, and by the time they was ten, Harry would be sixty years old. That's completely inappropriate, and confusing, and--"

"Yeah, well, better one of the parents be a bit older than a drunk who beats them," Eggsy shot right back, anger flaring up in him. Sympathy he had expected, but an attack on Harry? He had known Michelle had certain feelings before when they had brought it up, but this was none of her business. She had forced him into this at first and something amazing had come of it, and it was absolutely not her place to tell him what his relationship could or couldn't be.

Michelle flinched at that, her mouth closing on whatever continuation she had planned on. 

Eggsy's jaw twitched, and he tried not to feel guilty for shoving her poor decisions and inability to protect him back in her face. But she needed some reality. She’d forfeited deciding things for him when she arranged for him to meet his fiancé.

"I'm gonna do it, mum. We're gonna start trying in a few weeks. I'll let you know when it happens again, but that's where we're at. I gotta go," he said, standing and grabbing his coffee cup as he started for the door.

"Eggsy, wait," Michelle said, standing and moving to head him off, blocking him from leaving. After looking at him for a moment, she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. 

Eggsy hugged her back with one arm, after a moment's deliberation. 

"You've grown up so much," Michelle sighed, squeezing him tighter. "I love you, okay? I just... want what's best."

"I know," Eggsy said with a light smile, kissing her forehead as she let him go. "But you gotta trust me on this, yeah? You'll make a good nan," he teased lightly. Michelle held the door open for him as he stepped out, standing straighter than usual thanks to the bespoke suit. "See you, mum."

"Bye, love," she sighed, the door closing behind him with a light clicking sound.

Eggsy got back into the car, feeling... mixed feelings about how that had gone. He certainly wasn't going to tell Harry that his mother had just tried to persuade him to consider a vasectomy, but he could be pretty well assured that Harry would have assumed a lot of what they’d talked about. It wouldn't need to be addressed.


	35. A Conception

The drive to Kingsman was long as always, but a nice sort of long. Eggsy stopped off in the city to pick up lunch as it was now creeping towards 11:30, and he packed up the sushi plate in a bag happily, actually finding himself looking forward to work rather than dreading it or focusing solely on it. It was a nice middle ground. 

Once he neared the actual building, he turned his glasses on finally, and parked and greeted people fairly good-naturedly as he walked down the halls to Excalibur's office.

Funny, Eggsy thought as he walked in and sat himself back down at the desk, unwrapping the sushi and placing it on top of all the papers. It hadn't even been 24 hours since last he was there, but he felt so different, so much... healthier. He opened and unlocked his laptop, chewing on one of the rolls, and got himself right back to work.

-

The two weeks that passed before Eggsy declared himself fit enough to try again (and the doctor's confirmation they sought out that confirmed it) seemed to fly by. 

It was easy for Harry to immerse himself in the world of Kingsman, the paperwork and mission feeds distracting enough that he didn't have much time to think about what he was going to be getting into. The things he already had were plenty good enough at keeping his attention.

In seemingly no time at all, however, Harry was being assured that Eggsy was perfectly fine if they wanted to conceive, and his thoughts turned to that instead. He insisted that they give it at least another week before trying in earnest, desperately trying to sort things out in his own head. 

Yes, he'd agreed that he wanted a child but now, faced with the reality of it, Harry was having doubts. He really was so much older than Eggsy. Their jobs were both very ill-suited to caring for and raising someone, not that he had any idea how to do that in the first place. All he knew was some of the information he'd managed to pick up from Michelle's books, but it wasn't like he had a plethora of previous experience with children, and the thought of having one of his own turned more nerve-wracking by the day.

But then there was Eggsy to consider. His husband whom he loved and who loved him, and how many times had he assured Eggsy they would work things out? He wanted to believe it, especially as there was still some appeal to having a baby. So it was Harry yielded to the battle in his own mind and made his way to Merlin's office, rapping at the door.

Harry entered, more nervous than he had ever been when facing his friend. He took a seat when it was offered, glancing over towards the brandy that would be so welcome, but resisting that particular temptation. He wanted to be clear-headed for this. 

"As you know," Harry began, Merlin blinking at him over his glasses, watching him carefully, "Eggsy wasn't feeling quite himself after losing our child, but he's returned to something more of his former self, of late." At Merlin's nod, he continued. "That was due, in part, to our decision... to try again," he finally managed to say.

Merlin's eyes immediately narrowed, but he didn't say anything at first. "To try again," he repeated, a heavy pause before he spoke.

“Yes. I thought you might like to be informed that Eggsy and I are going to try to have a child," Harry stated, refusing to look away from Merlin. He stared at him steadily as if daring him to try and talk him out of it. If anyone was going to do that, it would be Harry himself.

With a slight sigh, Merlin rubbed at his temples. "And you're aware of just how bad an idea this is?"

Lips twitching into something resembling a smile, Harry nodded. "I'm aware, yes."

"The typical Arthur doesn't have children for a reason," Merlin pointed out, as if Harry needed the reminder. It had been decades since the last head of Kingsman had had significant familial ties, but nothing about Harry's administration had really been conventional anyways. Why not break a few more traditions?

Harry snorted. "The typical Arthur doesn't have a husband half his age with a ticking biological clock either."

At that, Merlin looked back up again, surveying Harry's face with intense scrutiny. "You're not doing this just for him, are you?" he ventured, leaning forwards slightly as if that would help him ascertain the truth of Harry’s words.

Slowly, Harry shook his head. "No. I want this just as much as he does. Well... maybe not quite as much, but I can assure you I'm not just doing this for Eggsy."

There was another blanket of silence that descended over them until finally, finally Merlin gave him a quiet nod. "Then I wish you both luck."

If Harry had thought he was feeling his age before, he certainly started feeling it when they began actively trying to have a child. He'd fall back onto the mattress, panting, drifting off into a sort of half-sleep until Eggsy would sling himself over his hips again, ready for another round that Harry just didn't have in him. Nearly every night saw them in their bed, up against a wall, on the sofa, or, one notable time, in the shower (when they ascertained that telly definitely lied about how hot and sexy that was). Occasionally, their lazy morning kisses would turn into lazy morning sex and leave them scrambling to get to Kingsman on time.

Days morphed into one week, two weeks, and it was when it was edging into three that doubt started creeping into Harry's mind. The first time had seemed miraculous enough with his supposed impotency and nothing really seemed to be happening even now when they were putting actual effort into. Maybe, he thought, they just weren't meant to have a baby. 

Even if, as it was starting to seem, they wouldn't be able to actually intentionally conceive a child, the sheer amount of sex they were having now was a nice consolation prize in Eggsy’s mind. But the days turned to weeks and Eggsy was also starting to get anxious, worried they were trying for something that wouldn't happen. Though they didn't address it yet, he was beginning to have the same sneaking suspicion that Harry did. Maybe that first time had been the only lucky break they would have.

But that all changed one day as he was taking the weekly pregnancy test he'd set for himself. Obviously that was the best solution; Eggsy had only found out last time because Merlin ran the tests and that was six weeks in. He would surely recognize morning sickness again, but as the book said, that varied pregnancy to pregnancy, let alone person to person. So he had taken to testing himself every week.

By the end of the third week, Eggsy ran the home test, his heart beating faster as he waited for the results to develop. The horizontal line came first, and he sighed, saddened again that it wasn't working, and resolved to maybe try talking to medical to see if there was anything he could do to make this a little more effective. Just as he was about to throw the stick away, the little vertical line appeared as well, making a plus sign. He froze looking at it, blinking, shocked. Positive. It was positive.

Still, Eggsy refused to let himself get too excited, or so he was telling himself. Yes, he wanted it to get confirmed by Kingsman to make sure it wasn't a false positive, but damn, he couldn't help thinking that it had worked. They were pregnant again. 

He stayed in the bathroom longer than necessary, just holding onto the sink and touching his stomach, flattened and hard once more. Looking at himself in the mirror, he smiled.

Eggsy had wanted this, another chance at a child, and now that it was here, he felt that same twisting in his gut of excitement and fear that he'd had last time. Although... No, it wasn't quite the same. Now he knew the bonding process and what it was like to hear their baby with Harry there with him. And that seemed to be trumping his fear of a second miscarriage or of something going wrong; he thought now he was ready. He could do this.

Eggsy waited to tell Harry until after it was confirmed a second time (and he wasn't going to turn down the light at the end of the work-day tunnel that was rigorous sex until he had to. He was in his twenties with a well functioning libido, after all), and felt a sort of calm happiness about the whole ordeal. It was planned this time. He was ready.

As had happened the first time, Merlin knew before Harry did. He received all the reports from medical in real time, needing to know what was going on with his agents the instant it happened. When Eggsy checked in, he didn't find any reason to worry. Knowing what he did, Merlin was simply waiting for a confirmation or the dispelling of their hopes, though one eyebrow did quirk up when the test results came back positive. He couldn't help but hope that Harry had meant all he'd said the day he'd come into the office because if he hadn't, he'd be getting quite a bit more than he bargained for.

-

Harry pushed his hair back from his forehead, dampened with sweat and unstyled as it was after their latest go of it. He took a moment to get his breathing back under control, staring up at the ceiling and trying to puzzle out a polite way of broaching the subject that he didn't think this was working. There were other methods they could try, of course, and it might not be the worst idea to have himself tested to see if he really was the problem in this equation.

Should that turn out to be the case, they could always try adoption, or a donor, something of that nature. It wouldn't be the same, Harry knew that much. Whatever child resulted from that wouldn't be theirs in quite the same way, but he tried not to let that matter to him. Still, broaching the topic wasn't really easy, not with the way he knew Eggsy felt about this. He was likely to turn it on himself, internalize the blame of it, and Harry certainly didn't want that. After he'd calmed down some, he levered himself into a sitting position, brushing his fingers over Eggsy's chest.

"I think we should discuss what we want to do if this doesn't work out," he said quietly, eyes flicking to meet his husband's.

Eggsy had been lying back, sighing and facing the ceiling with his eyes closed, cracking them open only when Harry spoke. He looked at him as seriously as he could manage while still refusing to sit up or move really. "What do you mean?" he asked evasively, wondering where Harry’s mind was but not really wanting to get too into a discussion one way or another when it didn't really matter, he knew. 

"We've been trying every night for nearly four weeks, Eggsy," Harry pointed out, voice soft. "I'm not saying just yet, but at some point we have to be realistic." If they were going to take another course of action, it would take time for it all to work out, and he certainly wasn't getting any younger.

Eggsy nodded slowly, propping himself on his elbows as he thought. "Yeah. I actually went to get checked out already by medical earlier today. I was gonna wait till tomorrow to tell you about it." He smiled slightly, feeling a bit of guilt, but he wasn't exactly going to stop Harry once they got started; he couldn't feel too bad about delaying the surprise. 

Glancing over at him with a bit of surprise, Harry asked, "And what did the doctors say?"

"That I'm pregnant again," Eggsy said almost sheepishly with a half-grin. "Like I said, I was gonna tell you in the morning, but..."

For a second Harry only blinked, not truly understanding what Eggsy had just said. "You're pregnant?" he said, voice coming out as more of a whisper than anything else. 

"Test was positive yesterday, medical confirmed it today. So yeah, I'm pregnant. Again," he added.

"And you were going to  _ wait  _ to tell me this," Harry said, incredulity clear in his voice. " _ Why? _ "

"It's a big deal, we can't both be freaking out about it. And I wanted to get myself all squared away before I told you." Again, Eggsy had the decency to look a bit sheepish. But it had only been a few hours that he had known for sure, much like the last time. 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Harry let himself fall back into the bed, arms reaching out to pull Eggsy half on top of him. He brought their lips together in a searing kiss, pouring into it all of his relief and excitement and the edge of fear, everything he couldn't really express through words.

Eggsy fell on top of him, momentarily overwhelmed by the kiss and all the sentiments in it that by now he was quite adept at picking up. He kissed Harry back once he recovered and put his own tentative excitement and love into it, pleased he was taking it well. Even the fear he picked up was fine, served to calm him. He had his own fears too; he would have been far more concerned if Harry weren't afraid in some way. He kissed him and didn't break away, didn't pull apart from him until he absolutely had to.

Harry’s arms wrapped around Eggsy's back, holding him to him even after he'd ended the kiss. "I would suggest a celebratory drink, but..." 

Settling himself and shifting a bit to comfortably press his body against Harry's, his head nestled by his chest, Eggsy snorted. "Nothing wrong with you doing it. I just got my celebration after all," he grinned.

Harry snorted. "What, the kiss? It would have been a bit more of one if you had told me  _ before _ we fucked."

"I was referring to the rigorous, baby-making level bonus fuck," Eggsy hummed, reaching up to move some of Harry's now-unstyled hair from his forehead.

Harry rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "You do realize we're still quite capable of doing that, yes?" 

Eggsy only shrugged, withdrawing his hand again and tucking it in against his body. It wouldn't be worth it, he didn't think, to go into the various reasons why no, he didn't think that.

Brow furrowing as Eggsy pulled back, Harry propped himself up on his elbows to better look at him. "Eggsy? I know it won't be quite the same when we have to start using condoms again, but there's at least eight months before that happens." 

Pulling away a bit more as his chest-pillow was lifted up from the bed, Eggsy lay on his side and looked at him with a faint smile. "Ain't about the condoms, bruv." He lay back on his back and stretched a bit, mildly uncomfortable with the tonal shift in conversation. 

"Then what is it?" Harry asked, genuinely baffled. He wasn't  _ that _ old yet.

Eggsy’s first impulse of course was to say “nothing” and try to shrug it off, hoping Harry would accept a new topic or some sleep and let this one drop. But it was more likely he would only get more insistent. So maybe a partial truth, one that would hopefully placate Harry and stop him from probing much more towards the realm of things Eggsy very much did not want to talk about right then. "Well, I'm gonna get sick again soon, yeah? Want to fit in what I can before I start getting nauseous constantly."

Harry studied Eggsy for a second before slumping back to the mattress. "Mmm, then I'll just have to make sure I don't work myself to exhaustion until your morning sickness starts back up, won't I?" he teased.

"Might hold you to that," Eggsy said back with his half-grin. "Though I'm a fan of you not working yourself to exhaustion anyway." 

Harry laughed lightly, eyes closing as they fell into silence. His hand reached out after a moment or two, settling lazily on Eggsy's stomach.

Content in the silence, Eggsy reached up to settle his hand on top of Harry's. Soon he was going to have to shift into full pregnant mode again, taking strict care of himself, managing himself and his body to make sure a second miscarriage wasn't even a possibility.

"I assume this will mean another awkward visit with your mother," Harry sighed eventually, the thought suddenly hitting him. He didn't know exactly how their conversation about the miscarriage had gone, but he knew Michelle enough to guess that she hadn't exactly been pleased.

"Or not," Eggsy said airily. The thought wasn't entirely appealing, with how “well” it had gone last time. He didn't need his mother interjecting that this was a bad idea and he shouldn't be having children with his  _ husband. _ That wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. "Work's busy. I can't take time to come to have a chat. A phone call will have to do."

Harry cracked one eye open to look at Eggsy, half expecting him to have a joking smile on his face. To Harry’s surprise, he looked entirely serious. "Your last chat went that well?" he asked dryly. 

"The best." Eggsy puffed out a breath of air, clearly frustrated. "It's like she only remembered to parent me when I mentioned becoming a parent. I've been thinking about 'coming clean' to her about having a job in government or something so I can justify long trips I can't talk about. And can conveniently have when I don't want to talk." 

"Yes, running away from your mother is the perfect way to show her how grown up you are," Harry pointed out, one eyebrow arching upwards, both eyes open now.  

Eggsy snorted. "Mmm. Wasn't gonna. But I think I'll seriously push off a meeting for a bit. Give her the time to get used to it so she ain't glaring daggers at you next time we go over."

Sighing, Harry raked a hand through his hair, mussing it up even further. "I can't really blame her. I imagine she brought up most of the same points I did, and they're all valid objections. You know that as well as I do." 

Finally, Eggsy turned to look at him, frowning. "I also know it's no one’s business but ours. They're valid coming from you. Anyone else should just be respecting our joint decision." 

Harry shrugged one shoulder. Their conversation had stirred up every reason he'd come up with why this was wrong, and he was trying not to focus on them. It was too late now; worrying wouldn't change anything, and it wouldn't help anything either. 

Still Eggsy frowned, not all that reassured by the lack of agreement. "You are still alright with this, yeah?"

Barely restraining himself from asking 'does it matter if I'm not?', Harry just glanced up at him instead, eyes slowly traveling down to his stomach. He leaned over, pressing a kiss first to it, then to Eggsy's lips before pulling away. "Like you said. We'll make it work." 

This time Eggsy straightened up, frown deepening from the continued lack of agreement or a straight answer. "Harry..." he started slowly, cautious, "if you ain't sold on this, we don't have to do it. I only got confirmed today, I could still get... an abortion or something if you aren't ready or you've changed your mind. It's a lot to take on, and I don't want to have trapped you into this."

Harry blinked in shock, drawing back to look at him. "What? You want this, don't you?"

"Yeah, but it should be what  _ we _ want, Harry, if we're doing it at all." Eggsy exhaled quietly, kicking himself for not having the full conversation about this before now, but he genuinely had thought they were on the same page; it didn't sound as though they were. "Yeah, I want a kid with you, but I don't want to go through with it if it's just gonna fuck with our relationship or something because you're just doing it because you feel like you have to for me. You don't."

"Eggsy, listen to me," Harry said, sitting up to face him fully and reaching out to take one of his hands. He pressed his lips to the back of it, curling their fingers together. "I might not be exactly used to this idea yet, but that doesn't mean I won't be. Waiting is certainly not going to fix the problem of me feeling old, and I don't feel like this is an obligation I'm trying to fulfill for you. I want this, I do. I'm just..." he sighed, pressing his forehead to Eggsy's knuckles, shoulders slumping. "Scared," he finally said, voice whisper-quiet.  

Eggsy watched Harry’s lips brushing his hand and felt a little bit better hearing the magic words 'I want this' too. Fear he could certainly understand, and Harry had every right to it. As long as that fear wasn't the precursor to resentment; that's what he had been afraid of. The very last thing he needed was to lose Harry. 

He held onto Harry’s hand, one side of his mouth inching upward. "Scared I can deal with. I'm scared too. And I feel like we're gonna be for..." he thought for a moment, then made a quiet 'heh' noise, "a while, probably. And that's okay." Bending a bit, he nuzzled Harry's hair lightly, affectionate. "If anyone can do it, we can, eh?"

Harry snorted, glancing up at Eggsy through his eyelashes. "Since we've met each other, we've nearly died a collective three times. I wouldn't say our track record for taking care of ourselves, let alone other human beings, is stellar." 

"I was wanting you to focus on all the people we collectively saved, but go on, be pessimistic," Eggsy teased, half-grinning at him as he leaned down to kiss his forehead now it was visible to him.

"Mmm, I'm not, I'm afraid. You'll have to be optimistic enough for the both of us," Harry said, picking his head up enough that he could drop a kiss on Eggsy’s lips instead. 

"I can manage," Eggsy said, not letting Harry get too far before he leaned in to kiss him again.

Harry rested his forehead against Eggsy's when they broke apart, one hand resting lightly on his hip. "I do want this, Eggsy," he assured him. 

"If you're sure," Eggsy said reluctantly, his eyes lightly closing as their foreheads touched. "Because I love you, and if you said the word, it would be over. But I gotta admit, I also really like the idea of doing this with you. Though maybe let’s not quite so attached prematurely this time," he added, mentally making note to make sure he didn't stick to a gender for the baby before they knew anything. 

"Do not end this on my account," Harry said, a little more sharply than he had intended. "I agreed to this, I want this, you want this, we are having a baby. Although I don't think I'll be able to help getting attached," he added, thinking back to when he'd first heard their baby’s heartbeat. That had hooked him, and he had no doubt the exact same thing would happen this time.

Eggsy’s eyes opened again, lips twitching. "I ain't ending it. And we got lots of time." Shifting himself around, he lay back down on his back on the bed, sighing a contented sigh. "The long wait for anything to happen is the worst bit."

Harry stretched himself out beside him. "The disadvantage to knowing early."

"And now nine months of the waiting game," Eggsy snorted, curling up and pressing his back into Harry’s side comfortably. "Goodnight, luv." Eggsy's eyes closed, and he let himself go to sleep, feeling grateful that he was currently neither sick nor huge. Got to be grateful for the little things, he told himself.

-

The night slipped away and things slowly started to return to the way they had been the first time Eggsy got pregnant. His visits to medical grew more frequent, desk work became the norm, and Harry did what he could for him at the house.

Eventually, however, the relative peace had to end. Four weeks into Eggsy's pregnancy and Tristan dropped completely off the map, communications ceasing entirely. Merlin called for an extraction team, at least three able bodied agents, to retrieve him.

Harry searched through the files several times, but he came up with the same answer each time. There were three able bodied agents available, just enough for the team, if he included himself. He told Merlin to start prepping for the mission, informed Percival and Gawain of their situation and found himself in front of Excalibur's door, sucking in a deep breath before knocking.

Thanking god that he wasn't feeling sick or in danger of sudden vomiting -- though once again the muscle pain was back and he didn't much care for  _ that,  _ Eggsy was holed up in his office. This time, of course, he wasn't burying himself in work to escape his own thoughts, and he wasn't so freaked out over the pregnancy that he got himself distracted every now and then. It was a nice kind of balance, and save the aches and the need to drink water and vitamins as opposed to his preference for coffee in the mornings, the pregnancy was background noise. 

Though it did come up again when he read about the incident involving Tristan. Eggsy would have volunteered to go as part of the group if he weren't pregnant, a thought he resigned himself to again almost bitterly. It felt like he never got to do anything actually spy-related. It wasn't his duty to deal with this, Arthur took it over, but he did keep up with it as he was involved in other tasks, monitoring the progress of other agents and researching potential future prospects.

The knock at his door drew Eggsy out of his train of thought, and he called, “Yeah, come in,” with his head turned to the door even as his eyes stayed locked on his computer, finishing out the last few words of his sentence before he sat back, ready to be attentive.

Harry slipped into Eggsy’s office, closing the door behind him. He waited the few seconds it took Eggsy to finish up what he was doing before placing a manila folder full of files on his desk. "You'll be acting as Arthur while I'm gone," he informed him. "Merlin will be available to help you, of course, should you need it, but I don't expect anything too difficult will come up." 

"Wait, wait what?" Eggsy blinked, reaching for the folder to open it up. "Are we talking about the Tristan mission?" Glancing at a few of the papers, he did see the names crop up. Maybe it was his bad not going through the information yet.

"Yes, we're talking about the Tristan mission," Harry confirmed, nodding slightly. "There are currently four agents available for this extraction mission including both you and me. It should only take a couple of days." 

Eggsy took a moment before responding, rubbing at his jaw. "Right. Alright, yeah, running things shouldn't be a problem while you're out." He'd be worried of course, with Harry gone away on a potentially dangerous mission when he’d known him to come home with a giant bruise colouring his face or a gunshot wound or a coma. But Arthur could handle this, and Excalibur could deal.

Harry nodded once. "We're leaving this afternoon. I'll have Merlin send everything you'll need over," he said, turning to make his way out of the office. He wasn't unduly worried over the mission, but he certainly didn't like to leave Eggsy. But he didn’t have much choice in the matter. 

"Understood." Eggsy frowned as Harry started to leave, sitting back in his chair and bouncing his leg a bit. "Good luck, Harry," he added, pulling the files toward him to go over them again to be sure he was completely clear on everything that was going on in that mission before he turned his attention over to the document he had been working on when Harry came in, absently worrying his lip.

Pausing in the doorway, Harry glanced back at Eggsy, eyebrows lifting slightly. "That's Arthur," he corrected, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But thank you." With that, he was gone, heading off to prepare for the mission. 

"I wasn't wishing luck for Arthur," Eggsy said to himself,  looking at the door as it shut behind him. He puffed out a breath and got back to work, his leg still bouncing.

-

The extraction went smoothly for the first 48 hours. That was when Gawain's communications cut out. 

Merlin ordered Arthur and Percival to reconvene and start looking for him together, but on the way to the meeting point Percival dropped off the map. Ignoring Merlin's suggestion to pull back and wait until they could send more agents in as reinforcement, Arthur pressed on.

Thirteen hours later, all contact with him ceased too, and Merlin brought a closed fist down on his desk. "Goddammit," he swore. He wanted nothing more than to get more people after them, but it would take resources that they didn't have and Lancelot wouldn't be back from her mission for another week at the earliest. There was nothing they could do but wait.

A brief flash of hope came three days later when, for ten minutes, they managed to reconnect with Percival. He assured them that he and Arthur were alive and they had retrieved Tristan, but Gawain's whereabouts were currently unknown. Arthur had ordered him to return with Tristan, insisting on staying behind to search for his missing agent. 

Merlin did what he could to keep up their connection but it fizzled out and he was left only slightly relieved by what he'd learned.

Passing the information on to Excalibur was the worst part of it all. Merlin didn't want to distress Eggsy any more than necessary, but as acting leader, he had a right to know everything going on within his agency, as if he wasn't avidly watching the mission already. There was little Merlin could tell him that he hadn't already known.

After a week had passed since their last contact from anyone, Percival showed up on their doorstep, a battered Tristan in hand. They rushed him off to medical while Merlin found out all he could from Percival, not much more than he'd already known, but he thanked him all the same before sending him off to rest. 

Time seemed to slow to a crawl after that, the other agents coming and going. Several times Merlin considered sending in more people after them, but their location was too vague and it could very well be a useless endeavor. So he sat back and focused on anything else that happened to come his way, glad of any distraction that could take his mind off it even for a short time.

It took two more weeks before Harry returned, stumbling into Kingsman in the middle of the night with Gawain following after. They were soaked to the bone, the rainstorm outside attesting to the reason, and neither of them were unscathed, bruises mottling their bodies. Thankfully, neither seemed to have sustained any dramatic injuries. 

Merlin had always made a habit of staying late at headquarters and he greeted them with stony eyes, a set jaw, and a snappish demand to explain just what the hell had happened.

"Leave it for tomorrow," Harry said, tone quiet enough that Merlin took a closer look. They were both exhausted, that much was clear, and the story had waited nearly a month. It could wait another few hours. Nodding, he turned away, but Harry reached out to take his arm. 

"Eggsy... where is he?"

"I believe he's gone home for the night, but you might want to check his office. He's been known to have long hours sometimes," Merlin told him.

With a grateful nod, Harry released him, feet automatically taking him in the direction of Excalibur's office. He rapped on the door, leaning on the frame and trying not to think about how all he wanted to do was sleep.

-

Eggsy hadn't been pleased to being with with Harry going out into the field. He knew perfectly well Harry was extremely capable and could handle himself as well as anyone, but he admitted to himself he was selfish. He didn't want Harry gone even more so than usual, the memory of the miscarriage and pressures of the pregnancy making him not want to be without his support. But he had no say in the matter, and professionally, of course, he would have let Harry go no matter what.

But then things started going wrong. Communication cut out, Harry fell off the map. A short few days long extraction turned to weeks, and while the Excalibur in him was pleased to see the return of two of their agents, Eggsy only grew more and more worried when Harry continued to fail to show up. What if he was being held captive somewhere and Eggsy wasn't sending in people to get to him? What if he was in danger of dying and he was doing nothing?

On more than one occasion when Merlin came to personally give him updates, Eggsy brought up sending in more people, himself included once he got desperate. But he only half-heartedly tried to convince Merlin. He knew too that they couldn't risk it, and with no communication, they had no way of knowing if Harry was going to show up the next day or not at all. 

Around the 10 day mark, Eggsy stopped going home as much as possible. He didn't take his glasses off, and he camped out in tense silence, waiting for the phone to ring or a voice to crackle to life over the speakers in his ears. Something, some sign that Harry was going to be okay and going to come back to him. That's all he wanted.

It most sincerely did not help matters that his pregnancy was now in full hormonal swing. Eggsy often felt nauseated, and as soon as work was through and he was no longer on duty, he pulled his glasses off just for long enough to pinch the bridge of his nose and try hard not to cry, to suppress the panic and sadness welling up in him every time he thought of how many days it had been since they’d had contact with his husband.

Running Kingsman had never been so hard. Oh, the job itself was the same as it always was, stressful and demanding but doable. But the strain of Harry in the back of his mind made it worse, and he was constantly on edge, constantly stressed. His stomach twisted and churned, and he had no idea if it was due to pregnancy, or nerves, or if he missed a meal. The lesson he’d learned last time was still fresh, and every painful cramp, every bad lurch of the stomach had him down to the medical bay, just to be certain it wasn't happening again.

This particular rainy night, Eggsy had turned his glasses off some time ago, slumped in his chair and facing the window that showed the grass outside. The lights in his office were off so he could properly see outside, the lightning pretty as it illuminated the many dark trees in the distance. He might be sick. He could be at home right now under the warm blankets, but alone, it sounded entirely unappealing.

The knocking at the door barely registered. It must be Merlin, or some other agent, coming in to tell him something or other about one of the missions they had going since he’d turned off his glasses. "Come in," Eggsy sighed, spinning his chair back around slowly to face the door in the dark office, his eyes dull.

Harry didn't much like the look of Eggsy, what little of him he could see in the gloom. The light from the hallway illuminated him enough for him to see that Eggsy was pale and didn't look like he'd been sleeping much. His fault, of course, not that there had been much he could do about it. He would have called in if he could, but something had jammed their signal almost constantly, and that was before he'd broken his glasses. He wasn't looking forward to going over that little section of the mission briefing the next day.

He ran his eyes up and down Eggsy briefly, lingering slightly on his stomach before flitting back to his face. "You look more shit than I do." 

As soon as Eggsy recognized Harry, he stood, adrenaline shooting through him in a sudden burst. "Harry-" Without giving much thought, he moved quickly around his desk and over to him, his own eyes raking over him, looking for any injuries Harry might have. "Are you hurt? What happened to you?" His hands lifted, as though wanting to touch Harry, but not doing so because he didn't want to exacerbate anything he couldn't see. "And Gawain, is he back? I turned off my glasses for the night, just haven't made my way home yet." He frowned, trying to stop the flood of questioning because Harry likely was tired and didn't want to answer it, but Eggsy couldn't help it, he needed that confirmation.

A little taken aback by the sudden onslaught of questions, Harry raised his hands as if in surrender, lips quirking up at one corner. "I'm fine, Eggsy, I'm fine. A few scrapes and bruises, but nothing major, and it's the same with Gawain. He's back. Resting. As for what happened, you'll be getting all the details in the meeting briefing tomorrow, whether you want them or not." He fell silent, reaching for Eggsy's hand with his own, bringing it up to lay against his cheek. "See? I'm alright," he assured him again. 

Eggsy let out a breath of relief, and his hand twitched on Harry’s face a moment before he stepped forward and wound an arm around his waist instead, hugging him to his body. "You fucking better be," he sighed, pressing his face into his neck. "Fuck, I was worried."

Harry's arms folded around him, head bending over Eggsy’s. "I know, I'm sorry. I would have gotten a message to if you if that were an option, but..."

"I know, I know," Eggsy said into his neck, eyes closed against the clenching in his chest. "I'm just, you know. I'm really glad you're alright." It was a lungful of air amidst all the stress to have Harry back. 

Eggsy pulled away after another moment, keeping his hands gently resting on his waist as he looked up into his face. "Are you alright to go home? I drove in today, I can drive us back."

Harry's hands smoothed up and down Eggsy's back until he pulled away. "If you still have things to finish up here, I can stay. I don't what to go home without you," he said quietly. 

"I been working nonstop for two weeks, anything here can wait till morning. I want to go home with you." Eggsy’s lips twitched slightly, and he leaned in to steal Harry’s lips in an cautiously gentle kiss, not wanting to push him, just wanting to show how happy he was to have him back.

It had been a long few weeks for Harry, and a gentle kiss wasn't quite cutting it for him. His arm stole around Eggsy’s waist, pressing him closer as he deepened it, sighing contentedly into his mouth. 

Eggsy of course was not about to say no to more kissing. His arms wound around Harry again, quite content to press into him and kiss him for as long as he wanted.

Harry found it strangely difficult to pull away, but he finally managed to, closed eyes flicking open after a second or two. "Home, then?" he asked, fingers curling into the fabric of Eggsy’s suit jacket slightly. 

When they pulled away, Eggsy’s eyes opened and he looked up at Harry, taking in his face. "Home. C'mon then," he said quietly, hands finally sliding off of his body to grab the keys in his pocket, reluctantly pulling away from him to start walking.

As Harry fell into step behind Eggsy, the wave of exhaustion that had been gradually creeping up on him all night crashed over him, black pressing at the edges of his vision. Either he voluntarily went to sleep soon, or his body was sending him there anyways. He faltered, putting one hand on the wall to steady himself, blinking away the encroaching darkness as best he could. 

When he heard the stutter in step behind him, Eggsy paused and turned around to see Harry leaning on the wall. He frowned, making his way back over. "I know it ain't your favourite place," he started, staying close to Harry in case he wanted or needed to lean on him instead to keep going. "But we can always go down to medical if you can't make it home. I can sleep in a chair or something."

Harry adamantly shook his head. "I'm not  _ dying _ , just tired. I'll be fine once we get to the car." That said, he pushed himself off the wall, determinedly heading off in the direction of the car. He only made it a few more steps before his vision blurred again, and he shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it, limbs suddenly feeling unbearably heavy. 

"I didn't say you was dying," Eggsy started, following alongside him this time, eyeing him cautiously. When Harry stumbled again, something clearly wrong in his head, Eggsy made his decision. He said nothing, just kept by Harry as they continued to the lift, his lips pressed together in a line. They made it in, and he jabbed the button for medical rather than the ground floor to get to the car, hopefully without Harry noticing. Whatever this was, he wasn't taking him home like this. 

As far as Eggsy knew, Harry hadn't been checked out yet, and after that long an absence without even being able to radio in, he at least wanted some sort of supervision for him for the first night back. He would have said as much for anyone, not just Harry, but he’d let his eagerness to just sleep next to him again get the better of his judgment. Officially with Arthur being back, it wasn't even Excalibur's call, but Eggsy was doing it anyway. Circumstances were what they were. And he would rather Harry be fine and pissed off at him in the morning than to have missed something.

Blinking blearily, Harry leaned against the back of the lift, eyes narrowing as Eggsy pressed at the buttons. He thought his hand was a little high up to hit the ground floor button, but he honestly wasn't sure how much he could trust his eyesight right then, given that it was blurring in and out of focus. His glasses beeped and he reached up to activate the comms, a sort of staticky feeling running through his arm and hand, making it hard to lift. "Merlin?" he asked, tongue thick.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright? Gawain's just collapsed in medical; the doctors are examining him now, but we aren't sure..."

Merlin kept on speaking, but Harry wasn't really listening. He leaned his head back, letting out a weary sigh. All he wanted to do was sleep. "Remind me," he said to Eggsy as the lift juddered to a halt, "how long it takes to get back home from here?" 

Extremely annoyed he didn't have his glasses on, Eggsy strained his ears to try and hear what Merlin was saying; it sounded urgent. He grew more concerned as he studied Harry and wished he had any sort of context for what he had been through. "About thirty more minutes' drive," he lied, sliding over to Harry to wrap his arm around his waist as he didn't trust him to walk on his own with all the stumbling he'd been doing. When the doors opened, he started tugging Harry down the white hallway.

Thirty minutes didn't sound right, but then Harry couldn't quite recall much at the moment. He must be more tired than he thought. Not too tired to have taken leave of all his powers of observation, however, and he stopped when he realized what wing they were in. "This isn't the garage, Eggsy," he said flatly, tongue slurring a bit on the s. 

The slurring was definitely not helping Harry’s case, and when he stopped and refused to move, Eggsy puffed out a breath, having to hope he wasn't about to be  _ too  _ difficult. "No, it's not," he sighed, tugging his waist a little more to encourage him to get moving. "Come on, do this thing for me, and then I'll drive you home. I'll come in early and do Arthur work so you can sleep until you're done, just do this for me first." Tug tug.

Harry stayed where he was, refusing to yield to Eggsy's insistent tugging. "I just need some sleep, and I can do that just as well at home as I can here," he mumbled. "Better, in fact. Home doesn't smell like antiseptic." 

"Well, here is closer, and you're having trouble staying up. I want you to get cleared before I take you away from medical." Eggsy only continued to tug, his free hand slipping into Harry’s coat pocket to retrieve his glasses and open them with one hand.

Snorting, Harry batted at the hand Eggsy had wound around his waist. "I can stand on my own just..." His brow furrowed as his throat closed up, and he temporarily forgot what it was he was saying, or really how to say anything. "Just fine," he managed to get out a few seconds later, but even to his own ears it sounded a bit mangled.

That was the least convincing thing so far. Keeping his hand still firmly around Harry, refusing to be batted away, Eggsy slid Harry’s glasses on and activated them. "Merlin, I'm with Harry in the hallway to medical." He left it at that. Merlin knew Harry and the situation and he was smart; he could figure the request out perfectly well. "You are the most stubborn man," Eggsy frowned and murmured almost to himself, looking up at Harry with the worry in the back of his mind still quite unsettled.

Heaving a sigh of relief at having someone arguably more rational to talk to, Merlin seized the chance. "You need to get him in there, Eggsy. Gawain's still in examination. We suspect they were both exposed to some sort of poison, but we don't know what it is or how to fix it."

Harry swayed a bit on his feet, feeling a little light-headed. 

Poison? "Fuck," Eggsy groaned, thinking that of course Harry simply returning fine was too good to be true. "Harry," he said, grabbing him by the shoulders more firmly. "You need to get walking right now, or you are going to make your pregnant husband literally drag you in there. Fuck it, I'll fucking carry you if I've got to, we have to get you into medical right now, this is urgent. I ain't playing around."

Eggsy seemed upset about something. He wanted Harry to go somewhere, it seemed. "Well, let's go, then," he said, staring blankly down at him. As long as he got to lie down and rest, he would be okay with pretty much anywhere. His attempts at walking forward didn't go so smoothly, but he did manage not to fall flat on his face.

It looked like Harry was starting to lose some focus, and Eggsy groaned internally, tightening his arm again and half-guiding, half-pushing Harry down the hall the rest of the way to one of the rooms. He let go of him only long enough to yell for a doctor down the hall and into his glasses, swallowing down some of the panic and worry churning in his stomach.

Harry had enough presence of mind to know that Eggsy was getting panicked. He didn't quite know over what, but he did know that he didn't want him to worry. "Hey," he said gently, patting the arm still around his waist. "It's alright."

At Eggsy's shout, a doctor poked his head out of his office, quickly taking in the situation. Merlin had already notified him that Harry would be coming in, and he hurried down the hallway towards them, already scribbling a few things down on a clipboard.

If anything, the patting and Harry’s words made the feeling in Eggsy’s gut worse. He walked with Harry over to the examination chair so he could actually sit down and he didn't have to worry about him passing out standing or anything. He stayed at Harry’s side as the doctor came in, arm sliding reluctantly from around his waist. He didn't want to let go of him. "Do you know anything?" he asked when he was in the room, foregoing the filling in which he was almost certain he didn't need to waste time on.

As soon as Harry was seated, he sank back with a sigh, eyes closing instantly. All he wanted was to sleep.

"We know that Arthur's system seems to be handling it better than Gawain's, if time is any indication," the doctor muttered, checking his watch and making note of the time. "It's taken him nearly a full hour longer to collapse. As for what it could be and where they could have been exposed to it... that we don't know quite yet," he admitted. He set down his clipboard and busied himself checking Harry's vitals, brow furrowed in concentration

Eggsy bit the inside of his lip, glancing worriedly at Harry. As when he'd first arrived, he had a million questions to ask. But he shouldn't press right now, the doctor needed to work on checking Harry as they undoubtedly were for Gawain; and he really should go see to the doctors taking care of him too, when Harry was stable enough to allow it. But he didn't want to leave Harry’s side now. He  _ needed  _ to know he was going to be alright. 'Poison' hardly sounded good.

Seemingly just becoming aware of how worried Eggsy was, the doctor glanced up at him, fingers resting gently over Harry's pulse. "Gawain isn't dead yet, and neither is Arthur. Just try not to worry too much." He ran a practiced, judgmental eye over Eggsy as well, recording Harry's heart rate before glancing back up. "You look like you could use some rest too."

Like Eggsy could get any real rest like this. He was far too stressed out for deep sleep of any kind. "Have someone wake me if there's any change?" he asked, lifting Harry’s glasses to scrub a hand over his face. He knew he should get some rest, whatever he could manage. "Any change at all, good or bad," he said, eyeing a chair. He could sleep there, better than on his desk...

"I'll tell you myself," the doctor promised him, going back to focusing on his patient. "But I don't want to have another case on my hands, and you need sleep more than anyone," he added meaningfully. 

"Thanks," Eggsy sighed gratefully. Much as he would have liked to take his glasses off to sleep correctly, he needed to keep them on, just in case someone needed to get ahold of him. He got out of the doctor's way, and walked over to the chair, sitting down and curling himself into a ball.


	36. An Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you heard it here, folks, this story has come to an end, as far as i'm concerned. there's technically more. there's about another 6k all written up on the doc but it's not really a conclusion. bilboswaggins and i sorta abandoned this rp a while ago, and this seems like more of a conclusion than the point where it actually stops so i thought i'd end it here 
> 
> if enough people are interested i could post the pseudo-last chapter as an epilogue or something, but i'm saying this has officially ended

It was a busy few hours that passed before the doctor had to wake Eggsy, though he did so indirectly. 

"Will somebody tell me what the bloody fuck is going on?" the doctor yelled at the stream of people running past Harry’s doorway. A commotion had started up in the room where they were keeping Gawain, but he'd been loathe to leave his patient to see what had happened. 

A nurse poked her head in, worrying at her bottom lip as she glanced at the prone figure on the examination table. "Gawain's gone into cardiac arrest. The poison must have reached his heart." 

Eggsy’s sleep hadn't been very deep due to pregnancy sickness and stress and worry. He startled awake easily at the best of times, and with the yelling, his eyes snapped open as immediately as if there had been an air horn going off. He was on his feet before he knew fully what was happening, body tense, eyes narrowing against the pain in his head and panic coursing through him. 'Cardiac arrest,' 'poison,' and 'heart' all made their way to process in his brain, and he threw a look at Harry, muscles in his jaw twitching in his helplessness. Medical was far from an area he was comfortable with. He didn't know anything, had to stay away from the doctors doing their jobs, and there wasn't anything he could do to help either one of them. One of their agents was down, and Eggsy couldn't do anything other than worry and wait to hear what was happening. And Harry likely was going to go in cardiac arrest too, within the hour, if he remembered the doctor's words correctly. 

Eggsy was paralyzed; he wanted to move, but there was nothing for him to move to do. Cautiously, he edged his way to Harry's side again, looking out the open door as though he could see through the walls to Gawain's room, and rested his hand over Harry's arm, fingertips pressed into his wrist.

At the feeling of hands on him, Harry's eyes fluttered open, and he groaned at the ache in his muscles. Everything felt weighted down as if he'd been covered in sandbags, and he could feel his heartbeat in every part of his body. "Mmm," he groaned, eyes narrowed as they focused enough for him to realize he was staring up at the bright lights of the ceiling. He tilted his head to one side, finding the source of the pressure on the inside of his wrist. "...Eggsy?" he rasped, throat dry and burning. "What's going on? Where am I?" 

Harry’s voice had Eggsy’s eyes snapping down to look at him, immediately roaming over his face for a second or two before his grip on him relaxed somewhat. "You're in medical," he said, lips pressed in a thin line. "Both you and Gawain have been poisoned. Do you have any idea by what?" His tone was more serious and concerned, while the hand that lifted from Harry’s wrist to his face was more gentle.

"Medical," Harry repeated to himself, vaguely recalling something about that. They'd been going there. He'd been tricked into going there. But apparently that had been for the better, he thought, as the news that he'd been poisoned filtered through. "Is Gawain alright?" he asked, half-sitting up. 

Eggsy’s hand retreated just far enough away to give Harry room and hover by his side as he warily eyed him, half-tempted to push him back down again. "No. Nurse was just here and said he's in cardiac arrest."

Harry went a few shades paler at that, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Do they know what it is?" he asked quietly.

Before anyone had a chance to say anything more, the same nurse from before popped her head back in. "Gawain's alive, doctor," she said, addressing the physician. "He's stabilized." 

About to respond, Eggsy cut himself short when the nurse cut in, his attention snapping over to her. He felt a twinge of relief, glad that Gawain wasn't in immediate danger anymore. And of course that meant that Harry probably was going to be okay if it happened to him. He didn't say anything, just leaned against the examination table a little more as his knees felt a little weak, his hand rubbing his face.

When Eggsy switched to leaning against the table for support, Harry glanced over at him in concern. "Eggsy, are you alright?" he asked, voice stronger than it had been a moment before. There was a thin sheen of sweat over most of his body and his muscles were beginning to twitch with the effort of holding himself upright for so long, but he didn't feel as tired anymore, and he was far more focused than he had been. 

Eggsy turned to Harry again, his hand remaining on his face as he looked him over, noting the shaking. Gently, he pressed against Harry’s chest, encouraging him to lie back. "Fine, yeah. How are  _ you, _ how do you feel?" he asked, pushing himself to stand upright again and raking a hand through his hair.

Harry acquiesced, lying back down and letting his eyes slide mostly closed again as the doctor came over to take his pulse and ascertain how he was doing physically. "I feel better than I did," he said honestly. 

"Good," Eggsy said with a frown and a sigh, returning to gently touching Harry’s arm. "You look a bit better at least, though I ain't a doctor," he said, glancing up at the doctor as he finished, wanting to know if Harry really was doing better.

Tugging his stethoscope from his ears, the doctor jotted down the readings briefly before giving Eggsy a nod of confirmation. "His heart rate is back to normal and the fact that he's alert is a good sign. We will of course have to keep him overnight for observation."

Harry groaned at that. He wanted to spend as little time as possible there and, necessary as it might have been, that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it. "You should go home," he told Eggsy softly. 

Eggsy really didn't want to leave Harry, especially with the small amount of time since Gawain's heart issue, but God, his muscles were screaming, and he really did want to sleep. "Will you be alright here? I slept in the chair while you was out, and my everything is killing me. I don't want to leave you, but that thing ain't comfy," he said apologetically, frowning. "I mean, I'll have my glasses and all."

"Will I be alright here? Eggsy, this is the place people go to heal, yes, I'll be alright. I'm sure they'll call you if anything happens to me, just go and rest. Please," Harry added, reaching out to entwine their fingers just long enough to squeeze his hand. 

Eggsy knew it was a stupid question, but he was looking for ways to talk himself into staying or guilt himself for leaving. As always, he felt the guilt of leaving his husband in the hospital where he knew he hated to be, but he couldn't help it, that bed was calling his name like a siren song. His lips twitched barely as he squeezed Harry’s hand, and he nodded with a sigh, again raking his hand through his hair. "I'll see you tomorrow, then." He made for the door, hand still in his hair.

Harry watched him leave, going back to staring at the ceiling once he'd passed out of sight. He shivered slightly, sweat-damp skin making him cooler than usual, and the doctor called for a nurse, ordering an extra blanket be brought for him.

That settled, a solemn silence fell over the room. "And you're sure I have to stay here  _ all  _ night?" Harry finally asked, breaking it.

The doctor sighed. It was going to be a long one.

-

Eggsy's trip home took entirely too long for his liking, and the sleep he actually did get once he hit the pillows was far deeper than he intended. On the bright side, he slept without waking for the first time in a while, sprawled out and snuggled comfortably under the mass of blankets and pillows he cocooned himself in while Harry was away. 

He woke feeling rested, a little more colour in his cheeks, the bags under his eyes receded to their normal state. The downside, however, was the clock blinking judgmentally as he opened his eyes, a good two hours after he’d wanted to wake up.

"Shit-" he hissed, scrambling out of bed to quickly tug on a grey suit and get his ass back to Kingsman. Eggsy’s stomach was clenching, but he thought that might have something to do with the lack of food in him; at least he was hoping that’s all it was. He stopped at a grocery just long enough to get a bag of roasted peanuts, then he was on his way back to work, pulling into the garage and walking quickly back through the halls to check in with Harry only an hour later than he usually got there. He wanted to make sure everything was fine, and he would be coming back before he sought out Merlin to plan when the meeting about what the fuck had happened to those four agents would be. 

Eggsy clutched the bag, fearing a very long day without much time for food or breaks, and crunched a few nuts as he descended in the lift to the medical bay, hoping he hadn't missed anything in the accidental late start he'd gotten.

At some point in the small hours of the morning, Harry fell back asleep, a blessed development according to the doctor. 

He checked Harry’s vitals every hour on the hour, ever watchful for signs that he was going to follow Gawain into cardiac arrest, but he remained stable, much to their relief. 

A few hours after Harry had fallen asleep, he started shivering violently. Once the shivers had turned into convulsions, the doctor ordered that somebody contact Eggsy as he struggled to pin down the writhing agent. The seizure was brief -- Harry had soon slumped back to the table -- but worrisome. Better than his heart stopping, the doctor supposed, but not by much. He kept a closer eye on Harry after that, a nurse quietly informing him that they had been unable to get ahold of Eggsy.

The morning came with no further incidents, but Harry woke feeling more tired than when he'd gone to sleep. An unfamiliar face greeted him with a blood pressure cuff and an order to lie still, the other doctor having found it necessary to get some rest for himself.

"Can I go?" he asked wearily once everything had been recorded. Exhausted as he might have been, his feelings about medical remained the same, and he just wanted to be out.

The doctor gave him a judgmental glance and a shake of his head. "You had a seizure last night. You'll have to stay on another day."

-

Eggsy trotted down the hallway to medical, hand rubbing over his mouth and feeling the stubble there with mild annoyance. He was supposed to be clean shaven for work, he knew that, but damn it was hard to find the time. It must have been three days now since he’d shaved. He reached Harry's room, door closed, and knocked, hoping to find him getting dressed or even better, already gone so he too could get out of here and back to actual work.

Harry's head swiveled towards the door at the sound of the knock. He made to get up and answer it, but didn't get much further than sitting up when the doctor glared over at him.

The physician went to open it himself, greeting Eggsy with a polite nod. Given that he didn't look particularly panicked, he figured he hadn't gotten their message from the night before. "Excalibur," he said, standing off to one side to let him through.

"Thanks," Eggsy said, stepping through and looking at Harry. He had to admit, he was disappointed he wasn't up, which was clearly doctor's orders. Surely Harry had been monitored plenty long enough by now. 

Eggsy walked to stand by Harry's side, posture a Kingsman sort of relaxed, and looked him over. "So how are you doing?" He addressed Harry, but also glanced over at the doctor, assuming he would fill in what Harry may gloss over.

"I  _ feel _ fine," Harry said peevishly, and it was the honest truth. Besides a little exhaustion, which he was more than used to given that it was his usual state of being, he felt much as he had before being poisoned. "But they're keeping me another day anyways."

The doctor snorted, rolling his eyes skyward. "Forgive us for wanting to ensure you have the proper medical care," he muttered, leveling his gaze at Eggsy, who he judged to be the more reasonable of the two. "He had a seizure last night, so we've decided it would be prudent to keep him here." 

Eggsy nearly choked on nothing. A seizure was pretty well far from fine. "Of course they're keeping you another day," he said incredulously, looking down at Harry with a mixture of concern and disbelief. "Fuck me." He pinched the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth. He shouldn't have left last night, he knew it. He at  _ least  _ should have taken a medical room or something so he was next door. What the hell had happened with that goddamned extraction?

"Sorry," Eggsy murmured after a moment, needing to collect himself again. "On a scale of one to bad, how bad is that?"

As Eggsy's face paled, Harry lurched into a sitting position, worry plain on his own face.

Trying to maintain some sense of professionalism, the doctor glanced between the two of them. "Not as bad as cardiac arrest," he said tentatively. "But enough to have me worried." 

God, Gawain. Eggsy would have to talk to his attending doctor about that as well before he left. But for now, he was still primarily worried about Harry. A seizure. He didn't even know what to do about that. Worried, of course, he was going to be worried himself all day until Harry was released; what kind of poison acted this way? He supposed he should be grateful that everyone was still alive.

Eggsy turned and looked at Harry worryingly, a look he seemed to be giving him a lot lately. His stomach clenched, and he fought back a sudden resurgence of nausea, one hand vaguely touching his stomach as the other reached to touch Harry's arm.

The look sweeping over Eggsy’s face in combination with the brief settling of his hand on his stomach did not escape Harry's notice. He moved his arm until Eggsy's hand slipped into his. "Don't worry about me," he urged him. "I've made it through worse. Did you sleep well enough last night?" he asked, concern evident in the tone of his voice.

Eggsy snorted. "Worrying about you is my second full-time job. I'll stop when you get out of here." He loosely laced their fingers together, looking down at them and forcibly moving his hand away from his body though the muscles remained clenched in an attempt to hold back nausea. "I actually overslept. I'm here an hour late because I slept through my alarm. Must've needed to catch up. Haven't been sleeping so good the past few weeks and all." He probably should make another doctor's appointment for himself, come to think of it. But for now, he had had quite enough of medical.

That didn't ease Harry's mind at all, and he brushed his thumb over Eggsy's knuckles, wishing he could just get out of this goddamn hospital bed. "On my account, I'm guessing," he sighed, knowing he would have done exactly the same had their places been reversed. "I'll be out of here soon, I promise. As I said, I'm feeling much better this morning." 

"You'll understand if I ain't keen on taking your word on medical release, yeah? I'm glad to hear you're feeling better. I really do hope you're back soon. Doing Arthur shit on your own sucks," Eggsy added with a twitch of his lips, lightly squeezing Harry’s hand before sighing. "And I gotta get back to it. I'll be working on this mess all day."

Reluctantly, Harry let go of his hand, letting his own fall back onto the bed. "Don't do it all on your own, then. The one thing I can do while stuck in this bloody place is paperwork; I might as well make myself useful." Even filling out forms would be better than sitting there doing nothing. Much as he hated to admit, paperwork wasn't the  _ worst  _ thing in the world. 

"I'll take you up on that. I'll be up to my eyes in it by the time I get back up there. I'll get some to you to take your mind off the bed then, eh?" Eggsy smiled lightly, taking a step back from him. "Okay. I'll see you in a little bit. Keep feeling better. If another thing happens to you, I might start losing hair. You'll end up married to a Merlin look-alike," he teased lightly, grabbing the peanut bag that was apparently going to be his breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Harry eyed the bag, gaze flicking up to Eggsy's face soon after. "And get something real to eat or else I'll be married to a skinny Merlin look-alike," he tacked on, eyebrows lifting a bit.

A knock at the door distracted the doctor from watching the back and forth of their conversation, and he turned his attention to the nurse who slipped inside and meekly passed him a clipboard. 

"Only if the opportunity presents itself, otherwise skinny is coming up," Eggsy said, chuckling quietly as he turned away from Harry, his eye catching the doctor and nurse conversing. He needed to talk with him before he left, find out how badly the cardiac arrest had affected Gawain. And then he needed to find Merlin for more talks. Eggsy sighed and rubbed his forehead.

Harry watched him go with a worried frown. He knew Eggsy had a lot on his plate, especially with him having been gone and now laid out in a hospital bed, where there was only so much he could do, but that didn't make him feel any better.

When the nurse noticed Eggsy lingering on the edge of their conversation, she quietly nodded at him before slipping out of the room, leaving the clipboard with the doctor. 

He turned to Eggsy, head tilting slightly. "Yes, can I help you?" 

Maybe when the ramifications from this last mission settled down, Eggsy could convince Harry and Merlin both to give the two of them a day off. He could use some time off-duty, just the two of them, lounging in bed, watching a movie, and the romantic in him wanted a date of just sitting with him somewhere, maybe overlooking the Thames. They hadn't done that in a while -- or ever, actually. Though the thought of churning water now only made him queasy, and again, subconsciously, his hand drifted to his stomach which clenched beneath it as he addressed the doctor. 

"Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt. But I need to know where I can get all the information on Gawain so I can get out of your hair and start working on it. Can you point me to where I can get a report of his stay in medical so far?" Eggsy smiled politely.

The doctor blinked at him a moment as if he had to decide whether or not he was trustworthy. Medical records weren't just passed around carelessly, even within the organization. Eventually, however, he seemed to come to a decision. "Here," he said, offering Eggsy the clipboard the nurse had handed to him. "It's not completely extensive, his own doctor will have that, but it should be enough for you to update his records. The good news is, he seems to be on the mend after the other day. We can hope the same thing will happen with Arthur."

"Good, good," Eggsy nodded, relieved that Gawain hadn't gotten worse. He took the clipboard, flipping through and pulling out the sheets he was going to need to update the records and start his research into what the bloody fuck kind of poison they had been exposed to, though he was sure the doctors and Merlin were also already on that. But he needed to make sure this was thorough, for himself if nothing else. "Thank you, I appreciate it," he said, smiling again, and holding the papers he needed as he made for the door. And toward the mountain of paperwork waiting for him to send half of it down to Harry. His stomach clenched uncomfortably and he frowned, not stopping in his pace. This should not be hurting this frequently...

-

The doctor relinquished the forms, turning his attentions back to Harry with an internal sigh. He well knew what kind of patient he was dealing with and, while he was relieved he was healing, he also knew it was bound to make his own job quite a bit harder.

Harry, eager to be up and about again, especially since he was feeling so well, resolved to actually behave for once, laying quietly as the doctor checked him over.

-

The next several hours were a blur of movement, Eggsy rushing from one place to the next, peanuts falling here and there from their bag as he ran. He sat in on a meeting with Merlin, conducted a few phone calls to agents and other departments, researched the symptoms he was aware of and called the science division in Berlin for a second opinion. When he had the time, he did run down to drop off some paperwork with Harry. He didn't stay for long, just long enough to give him what he needed to do some of the work Eggsy had been saddled with for the past few weeks with a weary smile, and off he went again.

It wasn't until the day wound down and the desperation to get caught up on the fiasco that was this past mission that Eggsy actually had time to reflect and take stock of himself. He sat at his desk, the door locked so no one could walk in on him, and clutched the desk as he tightly wrapped an arm around his stomach. He'd been so busy he hadn't had the time to really think about it, numbing himself so he could focus on Harry and Gawain and Tristan and Percival. That was what mattered to him at first. But now that he was alone and could stop working, the pain in him hit him like a wall. It was in his head, his shoulders, his back, but most worryingly, his stomach.

He was fine, he told himself, his eyes squeezing shut and fingers lifting to shakily ensure the feed from his glasses was turned off. He was okay, it was just early pregnancy sickness, mixed with the wear and tear from a month's worth of worrying about his job and for Harry. He was stressed, that was all. 

But logic wasn't working. Fear was starting to win, the memories of the miscarriage hitting Eggsy hard in bits and pieces, as if to whack him across the face that it could be happening again. What if he was losing this baby too, before it even began? What if he'd stressed his body so much it was rejecting the pregnancy? What if he was failing again?

"Fucking hell," Eggsy groaned to himself, hissing through clenched teeth and fighting off the rise in his pulse he could feel. His hands shook, his heart thudded, he couldn't seem to get air. There was nothing for it; once he caught his breath, he was going to have to try and sneak into medical. He didn't want Harry to know, not until he knew what was happening to him. But he couldn't risk losing the baby a second fucking time. His breath hitched in repeated shallow gasps at the thought, the hand not clutching his stomach holding the desk so tightly his knuckles went white. He was going to have to weakly stumble in there as best he could at -- he turned his wrist over, cracking his eye open enough to see it -- 10 P.M. Wonderful. Maybe he would just stay the night here too. Getting home after all this seemed like more trouble than it was worth. Especially with what happened last time. His stomach lurched. 

Fuck this. Eggsy stood on weakened knees, activating his feed again out of habit, and opened his door to go down -- once a-fucking-gain -- to medical.

-

Harry had never thought he'd see the day when he was actually excited to do paperwork. He'd more than once called it the “dullest thing on Earth” but, he had to admit, it was decidedly less dull than sitting in a hospital bed staring at the ceiling. Add to that the fact that it brought Eggsy back to him for a brief moment and he was almost glad it existed. 

About three hours into it, his gratitude was flagging. It had taken much longer than he'd expected to get through the stack, what with the constant interruptions from the doctors still trying to determine what had laid him and Gawain out and his wandering mind that didn't seem to want to focus on anything other than when he was getting out of there.

By the time Harry had signed his name on the last sheet, he was passed restless and more than ready to see something other than the interior of this cramped room. So he started scheming. 

He felt fine, the doctor had assured him that he was getting better as the day wore on, and from what he'd heard, the same could be said for Gawain. There was no point in lingering there. Harry forced himself to wait until another round of tests had been performed, knowing it would be hours at the earliest before anyone would be back to check on him again. Harry wanted to stretch his legs and, besides, the completed paperwork had to get to Eggsy somehow. Even Harry wasn't foolish enough to think he could get away with traipsing all over HQ, dropping it off wherever it actually needed to go. No, one trip to just Eggsy’s office was definitely more feasible.

The door to Harry’s room shut after the doctor’s latest visit, and he immediately started his escape, disconnecting himself from the various machines and trading his hospital gown for his typical suit. This was far from his first time sneaking out of medical, and he'd long since memorized staff routes. It was the work of a moment to make his way through the halls without being spotted, papers cradled in his arms, purposeful stride to his step that showed he belonged where he was. 

As soon as he was in the lift, Harry allowed himself to relax, hitting the button for Excalibur's floor and leaning against the back wall. Much as he hated to admit it, he did have some healing to go, it seemed, given how out of breath he was from his short journey. Still, he wasn't about to sign himself back into the hospital, not when he was so thoroughly enjoying his freedom.

The lift let him out seconds later, and he made his way to Eggsy's office. He was just reaching up to knock when the door swung open and he was confronted with his husband "Eggsy... hello." 

Eggsy was so self-involved with what he was experiencing, it took him a second to react to Harry's sudden presence with more than a confused blinking through squinted eyes. "...Harry? Uh, hi." His eyes took him in quickly, the obvious suit and papers, his hand relinquishing the hold on his own clothes over his abdomen. "They let you out? I had my glasses off, might've missed a page." He stood back to let Harry come in as he was obviously there to return the paperwork he'd brought down hours ago. "Or not," he added, remembering it  _ was _ Harry he was dealing with.

Eggsy’s knees were still a little weak, and he leaned on a wall to support himself and hopefully hide that fact. He concentrated a lot of effort into schooling his body appropriately to seem nonchalant.

Once Eggsy moved aside enough, Harry made his way into the office, grimacing as soon as he was turned away from him. He took his time setting the papers in the outbox before turning around and shrugging one shoulder. "Well. I feel fine and my vitals have been perfectly normal all day. Those are the normal grounds for release," he pointed out, sort of skirting around the fact that nobody had explicitly said they were done with him. He only glanced over at Eggsy when he'd said his piece, eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the way he was leaning against the wall, seemingly in need of support. "Are you alright?" 

Eggsy rolled his eyes. "Your credibility to turn yourself in if something goes wrong ain't the best, bruv. You tried to get me to take you home when you was in pretty shit shape last time." Though at Harry’s observation, he straightened himself up, making himself stand on the strength he was regaining as the panic attack faded. "Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a long few weeks," he said with a light smile that even with his best effort couldn't extend to his eyes with all the weight of his worry in the back of his mind.

Yes, Harry might have been the one to have broken out of medical and made off on his own, but that didn't mean he was going to let Eggsy get away with lying about how well he was doing, either. "I'll go back if I feel I have to, but otherwise..." He ended with a shrug, moving to stand in front of Eggsy, surveying him closely. "You need sleep," he finally declared. "And did you ever eat anything more than those peanuts like I told you to?"

That was most definitely true. Eggsy had slept long and deep last night, gained a little colour back to his face, but the hell of today was likely not doing his face and body any favours. As soon as he’d heard the words “Harry” and “seizure” in the same sentence, he’d felt like he hadn't slept in days. And as for food...

"I haven't had time. This is the first lull I've had all day." Eggsy shrugged; if anyone knew about that and couldn't fault him for his distraction, it was his Harry. He’d remembered to take his prenatal vitamins though, that had to count for something.

Harry sighed, knowing he was really the last person who could actually criticize Eggsy for not taking better care of himself. He also knew he wouldn't be able to resist anyways. "Then cancel any plans you had tonight," he said firmly, arms folding over his chest. "We're going home, I'm making you dinner, and then you're going to get some rest."

Fuck, that sounded great. At this point, Eggsy couldn't even remember the last time they had done something as simple as that. Those days, they were always running around from one disaster to the next, never having time for what Eggsy had once taken for granted. Spending time with Harry, fussing over each other, having dinner and sleeping in the same bed... it was exactly what he needed.

Still, Eggsy hesitated. He would never, ever forgive himself if something was really amiss and he let it go so he could indulge himself in dinner and some late-night cuddling. The baby came first, but telling Harry still seemed like a bad idea. "Good plan," he said with a small smile, letting his posture slump a little into a more Eggsy-like slouch. "Got one last thing I gotta take care of though, yeah? I'll meet you back here, or at home if you'd rather do that. Hopefully won't be long." Just enough for a 'the baby's fine' reassurance.

Harry's eyes flicked over Eggsy's face searchingly, trying to ferret out the cause of his concern (he wasn't an idiot; if there was anyone who could read Eggsy it was him, and there was obviously something bothering Eggsy) but he let it go without saying anything. It had been a long day for both of them, and an unwillingness to talk was perfectly reasonable.

So Harry stepped forwards until he could reach out and draw Eggsy closer to him, curling an arm loosely around his waist and leaning forward to press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll wait here for you," he promised afterwards, letting his arm fall back to his side.

An arm around his waist and a light kiss only made it harder to leave, Eggsy’s hands itching to curl into the back of Harry’s suit and pull him closer to kiss him harder and a great many things from there. But all too soon, Harry was pulling away again, and much as he wanted to take his hand and go right to the car, he smiled at him and started pulling away for the door again. He wanted to leave him with a snarky comment or something nice, but he couldn't muster one yet, still too distracted to be witty. So he left, making for the lift with quick footsteps and a sudden return of the twisting in his gut that had momentarily gone away.

Nearly the instant Eggsy walked out of the door, boredom hit. That hadn't been something Harry had kept in mind when saying he would just wait for him; there wasn't really anything for him to do, and he had no idea how long Eggsy would actually be gone. He amused himself with rifling back through the paperwork he'd dumped in the outbox. Riveting as that was, he soon found his mind wandering again and he seated himself in Eggsy's chair, eyes sliding closed as he turned to his thoughts instead. 

Eggsy's worry grew back to overpowering levels on the descent down to medical. He touched his stomach as the lift shuddered to a halt, knees weakening again as he thought over and over of looking down on that hospital bed to see the deep, red liquid staining the sheet before his eyes. Biting his lip, he ran forward, oxfords clicking on the linoleum as he made his way past empty rooms until he found a nurse turning down one of the examination rooms.

By now most of the medical staff definitely recognized him, and the nurse didn't need more than a few stuttered words of 'pain,' 'stomach,' 'baby,' before she was telling him to take a seat and going to rummage for one of the medical tool kits.

Eggsy lay there, chewing his lip and skewing the results of a heart monitor with how fast his heart was beating in his anxiety. Out came the machines again, testing his front and checking for any sign of something amiss.

"Everything seems fine, Mr. Unwin," the doctor said with a sympathetic smile, pulling the stethoscope from her ears. "I'd say it's just stress and anxiety. You  _ do  _ have every reason to have been stressed out lately. Just take it easy. Relax, have a hot bath to let the tension come out of your muscles. I'd also hazard a guess that you're dehydrated and in need of more food, so just take care of yourself a little more. The baby is fine."

Eggsy let out a shaky breath of relief, his hands lifting to press into his eyes. "Thank fucking god," he nearly laughed, pulling his shirt back down and touching his stomach gratefully as though consoling the tiny life inside of him. "Sorry about bursting in here like that so late; I was just worried sick. You understand," he nodded, sitting up again. 

The doctor smiled patiently, touching his shoulder as she stood and started to leave. "I do. Come back for your check-up in a few weeks. Oh, and word did get out about your husband's escape, so maybe you should both head home before  _ his  _ doctor drags him back and straps him down, mmm?" 

Smiling, Eggsy nodded, and began making his way back to his office. All in all, he had only been gone for 45 minutes. Not the shortest of doctor's visits, but far from the longest. He didn't knock, just reopened the door to his office looking far less keyed up and stressed out than when he had left, standing straight as the symptoms he had been experiencing had either worn off or proven to be psychosomatic. "Sorry. Ready to go now?"

-

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a place so peacefully quiet. Nights in the medical ward had been punctuated by the mechanical beeps of heart monitors and the occasional alarm from one room or another, and nights on missions were never exactly restful. It was easy to relax, drift away into something resembling sleep as the minutes dragged on. There was a thread of anxiety about what could be bothering Eggsy in the back of his mind that didn't let him really settle in, but Eggsy was more than capable of taking care of himself; he'd just have to trust him to do just that.

By the time half an hour had slipped by, Harry’s breathing had deepened until he was well and truly asleep, chair leaned back a bit, mouth slightly open. When Eggsy opened the door, however, he woke, sitting up and blinking a few times to get his bearings. He rolled his shoulders (none too happy with him for sleeping in such an unusual position) and stretched his legs before standing up, glancing over at Eggsy. Whatever he'd gone to do seemed to have left him in a much better mood than he'd been in before.

"If you are," he said in response to Eggsy’s question, moving to stand near him.

Seeing Harry evidently being woken up by his sudden arrival made Eggsy smile. It really was time to go home. They could both use real rest and at  _ their _ home, which, he realized, Harry was probably more than ready to go back to. When he approached, he held out his hand for Harry to take, edging back out the door towards the lift once more.

Harry linked their fingers together, thumb automatically brushing over Eggsy's knuckles as he fell into step beside him. It seemed astoundingly easy to slip back into life as it had been after missions nowadays. It used to be that he'd take days or even weeks to readjust after spending time in the field, but now he had something to ground him, someone to bring him back to the normal, everyday life that didn't strike him as quite as dull anymore. He managed to wait until the lift doors had closed before kissing Eggsy again, another slow, sweet one just because he could. 

The kiss was so comforting, and it opened the door to allowing Eggsy to ease back from all his worries, reminding him that Harry was there with him again, he was fine, the baby was fine, and right now his most pressing concern was to get some rest and food in his belly.


	37. Extra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> here is the very last of what we have written

The next few months were far less stressful, especially now that Eggsy knew what was happening and took the proper steps to actually avoid stressing himself out more than necessary. Without the worry that his husband was about to keel over dead in the hospital, Eggsy was better at taking care of himself. He took baths when his muscles ached, went to all his doctor's appointments, carried a water bottle with him at all times, and most importantly, actually ate meals. 

At Harry's insistence, he stuck to an eating schedule, packing meals to take to Kingsman and stocking up the fridge with plenty of stuff he could go and get when an alarm went off on his phone. It seemed the easiest solution, because while the parenting books all said to eat when he was hungry, Eggsy didn't have the mental capacity to spare to monitor that, not while he was at work. 

Work which, thankfully, eased up a bit. It was more like a real job again, with meetings, and paperwork, and conference calls, but Eggsy wasn't running around making sure his agents weren't dying. There were a few missions that dropped on his desk that made him sigh, wishing he could go on them himself, but now the baby was really coming along, his stomach swelling and reminding him every time he sat that he wasn't just looking out for himself anymore.

That reminder grew every day, and for a while it was bearable, his suits going from perfectly fitted to strained, then a specially made bigger size that he got in a style that would draw as little attention to his front as possible. He used to sleep in his boxers or pajama bottoms only, but now that his stomach was rapidly inflating, the baby bump becoming a little more than a bump, he slept in shirts as well. 

Eggsy loved the little life inside of him dearly already, but he hated how he looked. Occasionally in the mornings, he insisted on taking a shower on his own, locking the door and frowning at himself. There were some stretch marks cropping up, much as he tried to suppress them preemptively with lotions, his muscles and definition were gone, and he must be gaining some weight in his face as well, because his jawline was less pronounced. He looked... soft. 

While Eggsy didn't have a problem with that on other people, he hated the look on himself. He had always prided himself on his physical appearance, one of the few things he had had some degree of control over when he was younger and proof of his physical abilities as a spy, and for now, the baby was sucking it away. He was self-conscious about it, worried and virtually unwilling to let Harry see him (what if he hated it too?), and he took careful steps to minimize its effect as much as possible.

That was, however, before he was seven months pregnant with a bump far too large to hide anymore.

Eggsy woke up one morning groggy and stiff from sleeping at the weird angle on his side that was actually comfortable, grumbling to Harry to let him use the shower first. When Harry eventually cleared out and went downstairs, Eggsy showered, got himself ready, and made to pull on his suit pants when he found they simply would not fasten. He blinked, looking down in disbelief as he tried again to pull them closed. Nothing. They had fit yesterday, how could they suddenly be almost an inch too small?

If those didn't fit, that meant Eggsy had nothing left to wear, except maybe pyjama bottoms, but that wasn't going to cut it for going into work. He raided their closet, going through this and that, looking for something, anything, that could fasten over (or under!) his stomach. Curse Harry for having such a small waist.

Finally, his gaze fell down to the floor, to the dark sweatpants balled up in one corner, presumably hidden there by Harry so long ago. Eggsy’s lips pressed together in a thin line.

Ten minutes later, his feet shuffled down the stairs (carefully, one foot at a time -- Christ, he was nearly waddling at this point he was so off balance and large) and toward the kitchen where he could hear Harry clinking around, a pout firmly on his face. 

"Well. It's finally happened,” Eggsy huffed, standing in the entryway to the kitchen in Kingsman-issued slippers, Harry's sweatpants, and a pale blue t-shirt that hung loose on his top and his sleeves but unfortunately made his very pregnant body quite apparent. "I can't wear shit."

-

The next few months were strange ones for Harry, though he wagered they were stranger for Eggsy. For a while, he knew what to expect; they listened to the baby's heartbeat, watched it go from the size of a strawberry to the size of a peach on the blurry, grainy screen of the ultrasound. After that, however, it was all new territory.

Eggsy's behavior changed with his body. He grew more and more closed off the bigger his stomach swelled, taking to showering on his own and sleeping in a shirt, locking himself up in the bathroom for longer and longer time periods. Harry didn't understand why, but he only got shut down every time he tried bringing it up, and eventually he just stopped asking. He did, however, insist on Eggsy eating. Two people needed more sustenance than just one, especially when one of them was constantly growing. So he took to stopping by Eggsy's office a few times every day to double check that he'd at least had  _ something _ .

The good moments far outnumbered the bad, at least on Harry’s end. Eggsy was newly fascinating, and there was more than once when he earned himself an irritable snap or swipe on the arm due to the amused smile he just couldn't keep off his face. Eggsy’s walk had turned into more of a waddle, he'd taken up using his stomach as a resting place for his plate because he couldn't fit behind the table as well anymore, and watching him try and get out of bed in the morning was one of the highlights of Harry's day. 

Then there was the baby itself, the as of yet strange entity slowly growing inside of Eggsy. The instant the doctor had informed them that it might be capable of hearing them, Harry had taken to talking to it, even singing on occasion. It had been during one such time when the baby had first kicked, and Harry sang to it more often after that, unable to help himself.

He did what he could to help Eggsy which was, in his mind, not nearly enough. He tried to take on more of the strenuous tasks at work, blessedly few in the recent months. He took care of what domestic duties he had time for, officially placing himself in charge of the cooking in one of his many attempts to assure himself Eggsy was getting enough to eat.

That particular morning, Harry found himself again in the kitchen, busying himself with bacon and scones. When Eggsy shuffled downstairs, he glanced over at him, pressing his lips together to keep from laughing out loud. "You won't be winning any fashion shows," he agreed blithely, arching an eyebrow at the long-forgotten sweatpants. Better Eggsy than him; Eggsy had been the one who thought they were comfortable anyways.  

"Oh, stuff it," Eggsy huffed, walking over to Harry so he could rest his forehead against his shoulder as he groaned. "I guess I'll just have to stay home for another two months. No way I’m leaving the house like this."

Harry smiled down at Eggsy softly, trailing a hand comfortingly down his back. "I can assure you they've all seen worse," he said lightly, turning over the bacon. "Plenty of them have  _ worn _ worse."

"Yeah, well. They aren't waddling in like this on top of that. Think you've got a robe I can wear on top of this? Go for a Hugh Hefner type look, that's a bit better than the inflated balloon aesthetic I got going for me right now." The smell of bacon was overpowering, almost giving Eggsy a headache as much as it was making him want to reach into the pan as is and grab himself a handful.

"Might I suggest a tuxedo instead of a robe? More thematic with the waddling." Harry slid the first strips of bacon onto a plate, handing it off to Eggsy and adding a scone beside it. 

"You know what? I'm gonna take all of your bacon for that," Eggsy huffed, taking the plate from Harry to move away to the table. He cast a longing glance at his long-unused coffee machine. 

Harry didn't look the least bit apologetic as he laid out another strip of bacon. "We could get decaf, you know," he said, noting Eggsy’s wistful glance.

Nibbling a piece of bacon, Eggsy lifted a hand to cover his mouth as he answered. "Ain't the same," he said, shooting a glare at the machine this time. "And I wouldn't risk it anyway. Sticking to water at this point. But soon as this sucker's out, I'm drinking straight from the pot."

"Given what I know of infants, both of us will find caffeine necessary," Harry said, fixing himself up a plate and taking his place at the table. 

"I went through a lot with Dais, and I wasn't her father," Eggsy said, taking a healthy bite of scone. "The best is yet to come, bruv," he hummed, smiling innocently as he touched the top of his stomach absently.

Harry couldn't resist a glance at Eggsy's stomach either, a thin vein of worry threading through him once again. It had come and gone by turns throughout the past few months, but he managed to push it away every time. He shoved it down this time as always, busying himself with eating instead. 

Eggsy noticed the glance followed by silence, but he wasn't going to say anything. It was okay for Harry to be sort of afraid of what was coming in the next two months, the life they were responsible for coming closer and closer to actually being born. Instead of prodding Harry or involving himself with it, he reached across the table and stole one of his bacon strips, looking at him as he ate it.

It took a second for Harry to notice, lost in thought as he was. He reached a hand down to his plate, fingers searching for the food he knew was there and glancing down in slight surprise when he found nothing. Puzzled, he glanced up just in time to see the last of it disappearing into Eggsy's mouth. He gave him an absolutely scandalized look.

Eggsy swallowed, then smiled angelically at him, pointing down to place the blame on his stomach. "Don't blame me, it was little sir or madam. They're greedy and not very tactful."

"We really do need to name our child at some point," Harry mused, picking at his scone instead. It was a small consolation prize for the loss of his bacon, but he couldn't really complain. 

"You shoot down every good suggestion I have," Eggsy countered, finishing his scone as well. "You got any new ones yet?" he smirked, sitting back and watching Harry while he played absently with a napkin just for something to do with his restless hands.

Harry thought on that for a moment, running through a list of names in his mind. "We could always name him after my father. But something tells me you'll disagree with the name Byron," he said, arching an eyebrow and looking over at Eggsy for confirmation.

Eggsy thought for a moment. Harry was right, he didn't  _ love  _ the name, but then again he and everyone he knew in his past life were such a far cry from  _ Byron. _ From birth, that baby would be more snobbish than he ever would be. He pressed his lips together to keep from smirking at his train of thought. "I don't mind it as a middle name," he said truthfully, nodding his head once. "But as a first name? Not quite right."

Groaning, Harry realized he hadn't even considered the possibility of middle names. He let out a small sigh before glancing back at Eggsy with a half-smile. "If it's a girl, we could always name her Guinevere," he teased.

But Eggsy's eyebrows rose and he grinned, enthused. "We should! Guinevere, I like that. We could call her Gwen, I always did like that name," he hummed happily, looking down at his stomach and patting it gently. "What do you think, eh? You like the sound of that?"

Harry blinked, a bit taken aback at Eggsy's enthusiastic response. "Wha- Eggsy, I was joking." 

"Bup-bup," Eggsy said, holding up a hand as he continued looking down, waiting for a reaction from the baby if there was going to be one. After a moment or two, he grinned, looking back up at Harry smugly. "Baby kicked. I'm thinking that's a 'yes.'"

Snorting, Harry shook his head. "It's a fetus, Eggsy, it's not agreeing to anything," he said. "Besides, it could just as easily be a boy."

"I'm gonna disagree with you. She kicked. She likes the name Gwen." Eggsy grinned, refusing to be dissuaded from his line of reasoning. It was the best suggestion they’d had so far, if he was being honest with himself. Well. Besides Aventador. 

Harry rolled his eyes heavenward, an amused smile quirking up his lips in spite of himself. "Well, if we do have a daughter, then I  _ suppose _ we can name her Guinevere," Harry relented.

"And I'll keep reminding you that it was you who suggested it," Eggsy said, smiling happily. "Guinevere Hart. Just sounds adorable. You can be grumpy and reluctant about it all you want, but I'm already sold."

Harry had to admit he liked the sound of that as well, but he'd be damned if he was going to admit it to Eggsy's face. That would be admitting defeat. "Since I have reluctantly chosen the girl's name, I think it's only fair that you get to decide what to name our son. Within reason," he tacked on hastily, recalling some of Eggsy's earlier suggestions.

Humming, Eggsy closed his eyes, flipping through names he liked that Harry  _ hopefully _ wouldn't shoot down for some inane reason. "I like..." He wanted to say something he liked, like Oliver for his favourite football team, or James for a show he liked. But Harry's suggestion did stick with him. "...Lee,” he said definitively, though Lee Byron Hart sounded pretentious as all get out, or like an 18th century poet.

Harry, who had braced himself for Sirius, or Lamborghini, or something equally ridiculous, paused. "Lee," he repeated, testing it out. Did Lee Byron Hart sound like he could have walked straight out of an 18th century novel? Perhaps. But perhaps  _ Harold Fitzwilliam Hart _ couldn't say much better about himself, so he nodded. "Lee it is."

Eggsy smiled, happy he was met with agreement for once. "We have just named our baby, whichever gender it is. Come here and kiss me. I want one, but standing up is a fucking nightmare,” Eggsy teased, his head tilting up invitingly.

Feeling a small flash of relief that that was a small worry off of their shoulders, Harry got to his feet. He skirted the edge of the table until he was standing in front of Eggsy, dipping his head to snatch a kiss from his lips. Pulling away, he swiped his tongue over his lips. "Tastes like bacon." 

When Harry pulled away, Eggsy was grinning, in a far better mood than he had been when he’d carefully tottered down the stairs. "Lucky you, bacon kisses are great." Once Harry pulled away, he put one hand on the table to gain leverage to stand up again, not even annoyed at the effort he was having to extend to simply get up.

Harry moved to clear the dishes away. "They do taste good," he agreed, setting their plates in the sink. "But you know what tastes even better? Actual bacon." He flicked the faucet on.

"I do know. My loving husband let me eat most of it," Eggsy said with an innocent smile, edging back toward the entirely too cumbersome stairs. "I'm gonna go haul myself back up the stairs, get my Hefner look together before work. Part of me was hoping you'd demand I stay home since I couldn't possibly leave the house looking so shabby," he admitted teasingly. "Unless you wanna stop me now. You still have time to ban me."

Pausing for a moment in mock consideration, Harry eventually just shook his head. "I'm afraid there's entirely too much paperwork for me to do on my own, especially as I had such a stunted breakfast," he lamented.

"Oh boy. Paperwork. Can't fucking wait." Wrinkling his nose, Eggsy bit back a smile and made his way upstairs, really intending on just throwing a robe on on top of his sweatpants and t-shirt. He was going to have to leave work early to try and find a store that sold men's maternity clothes that he'd been putting off going to get…

Harry finished up with the dishes as he waited for Eggsy to make his way back down the stairs. 

Once Eggsy had rejoined him, Harry gave him a soft smile, pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning against. "The robe really completes the look."

Eggsy snorted, stuffing his hands in the pockets of the robe and thinking that at least with its vague shape he didn't look quite so huge. "Yeah, all I need is a bubble pipe and then I'll really be top." He smirked lightly, and walked over to Harry, resting a hand gently on his chest as he leaned up to steal another soft kiss from his lips. "Remember what I said ages ago. You gotta lie to me and tell me I still look good. I'd say 'you knew I was vain when you married me,' but I guess you found that out shortly after," he said not far from his lips, kissing him again before pulling back.

Harry's eyes closed as their lips met briefly, only flickering open again when Eggsy pulled away. "You still look as handsome as ever," he reassured him. "And I think it's safe to say you found out much worse about me after we were married, so you're off the hook for vanity."

"Good job lying, keep it up," Eggsy grinned, taking Harry’s hand and lacing their fingers as he began tugging him toward the door. "And you're right. You found out I'm kind of vain, and I found out about a spy agency where I'm now directly under you." He winked, never able to resist an excuse for that flirtatious joke. "Makes us about even."

Harry couldn't help the small smile that flitted across his lips at the suggestive joke, rolling his eyes in a show of disdain. "Funny," he said dryly, trying to pretend he hadn't found it just that. He didn't try to argue the point that he hadn't been lying about the way Eggsy looked; he doubted Eggsy would believe him no matter how many times he reassured him.

Grinning, knowing at the very least he found it funny and banking Harry did too deep down (with his penchant for making thinly veiled sex jokes himself, the hypocrite), Eggsy tugged him onward towards the car so they could get try to get to work on time that day.

-

They arrived and parted ways to their separate offices as they did every day. 

Once Eggsy was on his own, he did his best to walk properly, to keep his slight pregnant waddle in check. He fiddled with the hem of the robe every now and then as well, making sure it was closed tightly. He’d exchanged his sweatpants for slightly more appropriate white linen pyjama bottoms, but he still wore the blue t-shirt underneath the robe, as well as Kingsman slippers rather than oxfords -- a thing which his swollen ankles and feet were immensely grateful for -- so at the very least, he still looked as though he was putting effort into how he was coming into work. For someone who was most comfortable in baggy jeans and an oversized jacket, Eggsy was feeling almost suffocatingly conscious of how pregnant he was now that he could no longer hide it.

His work was fine, uninterrupted, and he found himself grateful he worked at a place stuffed full of repressed and restrained Englishmen where no one was about to come touch his stomach or anything quite as horrifying as that. But without the cover of a suit and the certain amount of restraint it held over his baby bump, Eggsy had to sit back a little further, he bumped the table when turning suddenly to face it, and maybe he was imagining it, but getting up and down was more difficult. The final straw was catching sight of himself in one of the mirrors along the hallway between his office and a meeting he was having, really seeing outside of the potentially flattering mirrors of his bathroom that he was a far cry from the flat-stomached, toned body he'd worked so hard to cultivate.

Once Eggsy had a lull in time, near the end of the day when he found he could sneak away, he went down to the Kingsman gym. 

During his pregnancy, Eggsy hadn't shied away from it. On an average week he felt oddly restless if he didn't do a couple of hours in the gym maintaining his strength and flexibility. He'd worn elastic banded pants and stretchy shirts as he always had, and the lack of a mirror in the room itself meant he hadn't seen what he'd looked like. But now he certainly had.

Once Eggsy had to start wearing more casual clothes to work, buying pregnancy specific pants and shirts to throw on sometimes with that robe or another coat despite the warmness of the weather, his workout regimen intensified. 45-minute sessions became an hour and a half. Two hours at the end of the day stretched to four. His usual bench pressing weight of 230 pounds was increased to 270. He stayed in there longer, working himself harder, finding every opportunity to make it down there for some sort of physical exertion. 

He rubbed his somehow still softer jawline as he looked in the mirror alone at home, still very much secluding himself from Harry anytime he had to get naked or otherwise show more than a shirt's worth of skin. It had been the only thing he'd had control over, and feeling as though he had lost his looks and his body so quickly made him anxious, an anxiety that logic was having no luck cracking through. It didn't seem to want to either; he had only teased Harry about wanting to hear he was attractive once more after the first day he had to switch his clothes. It had gotten to the point where hiding everything about this internal turmoil of sorts seemed to be the best option.

Eggsy might have been hiding exactly what was causing him so much distress, but part of Harry's job was reading other people, and over the months of their marriage he had gotten very good at reading Eggsy. While he might not have been able to crawl into his head and ferret out the specific reason behind Eggsy’s anxiety, he could sense the constant state of unease he was in. 

The logical conclusion was that Eggsy was worried about miscarrying again. Harry knew that miscarriages at this stage were rare, but not entirely unheard of, and he had to admit he occasionally worried about it himself. Such a thing would be devastating so far along, and he didn't know if Eggsy would be able to bounce back should something happen.

Still, there was little Harry could to reassure Eggsy if that were the case. He couldn't promise that everything was progressing normally or anything of that nature. He had to sit back and let Eggsy deal with it himself, something Harry did not do very well. Hovering would only make it worse, he knew, as would plying him with questions. Eggsy could be quite stubborn when he wanted to be, and he doubted he would get anything out of Eggsy that he didn't want to say.

There was another, secret fear eating away at Harry that he constantly pushed away. But it would creep into his head unbidden, wrap him up for a bit. Perhaps having this baby was pushing Eggsy to realize just how much of a difference there was between them. Eggsy was still young enough to have a baby, the perfect age to be a father. And Harry... wasn't. He wasn't an idiot, he had noticed how much his husband was starting to distance himself, closing himself up in the bathroom or the closet whenever he could, not letting Harry see him anymore. Worries about a miscarriage couldn't explain that away.

Throwing himself into his work was a good way to avoid those thoughts, and Harry became more diligent than usual for a while, even with his paperwork. Merlin, who couldn't quite guess at the catalyst for his new behavior, was both impressed and uneasy. Whenever he tried to bring up the topic, however, Harry would switch it, and there was no steering him back onto it.

The middle of the day rolled around and Harry decided he could take a small break to see Eggsy, maybe even air some of this out, though he suspected he would lose what little nerve he had worked up when he actually saw him. It was worth a try, at least. So he stood, leaving his desk a mess of scattered papers, and made his way to Excalibur's office, rapping at the door. 

The middle of the day, some time after lunch, was usually when Eggsy fit in the first of his two sessions a day down in the Kingsman gym. He usually tried to go the middle ground between quickly enough to not miss any calls, and not so quickly as to hurt himself, but it was easy to lose track of time when he was busy counting reps and seconds in his head. 

When Harry knocked at his door, there was no answer; Eggsy hadn't made it upstairs just yet. Only when he reached out to knock a second time did Eggsy actually turn the corner at the end of the hall, a hand absently pressed to his lower back as he moved at a quicker pace, his hair still wet from the slapdash shower he'd taken.

The lack of response to his first knock didn't worry Harry unduly. Eggsy took a little longer to move now, and he had finally learned to compensate for that. After a bit of time passed, he reached out to knock a second time, just in case Eggsy hadn't heard him or, if he had, to tease him for how slow he was being. But he didn't get the chance to wait for anything after that, Eggsy rounding the corner at the end of the hallway and capturing his attention.

Once he'd recognized Harry standing there, Eggsy smiled lightly, his hand falling quickly to his side instead. "Oh, hey, Harry. Sorry, was running a bit behind. Did something happen?" he asked, his eyebrows pulling together as he drew closer to Harry and his office, tone serious. He hadn't been expecting him, and while he had on his glasses now and no one was frantically getting his attention, anything could happen at a spy agency.

Harry was a bit surprised to find Eggsy out of his office, and he was about to ask him if anything was wrong, but Eggsy beat him to it. Unable to suppress a small smile, he shook his head. "Does something have to be wrong for me to want to visit my husband?" he asked, taking a step towards Eggsy as he drew closer. "I just wanted to see you."  _ And talk about some things _ , he mentally added, keeping that to himself for the moment. "Your hair's wet." 

Eggsy’s face visibly relaxed, relieved nothing was amiss, and pleased Harry had come to see him. They didn't get to see each other as much as he would like, though that was partially his fault, he knew. Eggsy stopped in front of Harry, an arm's length and a half away. He glanced up to his hair and the few bits escaping the styling he had done without gel or anything to keep it in place that were falling onto his forehead. "Oh, yeah. That happens when you shower, they tell me." He smiled, and jerked his head towards his closed door. "Do you want to go in? I'm all for a bit of hallway chatter, but I'm hoping you plan on staying longer than that."

Harry rolled his eyes at the sarcasm, but made to open the door. "Please. Hallway chatter is the equivalent of hanging around a water cooler at a normal office. I would much prefer to sit down." He held the door for Eggsy, trailing in after him and seating himself in front of Eggsy's desk. 

"I think I could chat you up around a water cooler. I could have fun with that." After tossing Harry a teasing half-smirk, Eggsy entered his office and sat himself down with a mild grunt, his muscles grateful for the relief after the strain of just existing while pregnant. "So, what's up?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and pushing his hair back into position.

"I think you could chat me up just fine with or without a water cooler," Harry pointed out, settling back in the seat. He was already beginning to relax when Eggsy reminded him of his purpose for coming there, and his good mood dampened somewhat. "Ah. There was something I thought we could... discuss," he said, shifting a bit and not quite meeting Eggsy’s gaze. 

Eggsy's eyebrows pulled together and his eyes squinted a bit as he frowned. Was something wrong? Well, obviously something was amiss, Harry didn't usually look uncomfortable like this. "And what's that?"

Harry cleared his throat, half-regretting this decision. Still, if something was off between them, he would rather know about it than be left in the dark. "I know it's been a long time since we talked about anything like this," he began. "But my offer to release you from this marriage still stands. You didn't choose this, and I... don't want you feeling trapped," he said carefully. "Especially not now."  

Eggsy's eyes widened and he blinked a few times in shock. He was very thrown off; he thought Harry was going to bring up going on a mission or something for a few weeks, or maybe that Eggsy had forgotten something important (unlikely, but possible). Wasn't this issue resolved months ago? "Why... What makes you think I'd want a divorce?" Frowning in confusion, his shoulders tensed as he frantically tried to think what he might have done to give off that impression. When he didn’t come up with anything, he kept talking. "I don't feel 'trapped' or anything like that. I  _ have _ a choice now, and I'm choosing you. What brought that up?" He was lost, and it showed on his face.

Eggsy’s shock and confusion seemed genuine, which at least boded well for Harry. It was likely he'd just jumped to conclusions, but he didn't want Eggsy trying to spare his feelings in a misguided attempt at chivalry. "You're certain?" he pressed. "If you're only saying this because you're worried about how I might react, just know that I'll let you go in peace." 

Another second of silence passed, and then Eggsy picked up a pen and tossed it at Harry's chest. "Idiot. I love you, you know that. And not in the Stockholm Syndrome way you're trying to project on me. You wanna propose to me now and I'll marry you again?" 

The pen hit Harry squarely in the chest, tumbling into his lap. He snorted in amusement, shaking his head to let him know that, no, going quite that far wouldn't be necessary. Thus reassured, he regained his easy manner.

Eggsy’s words were light, but he was still frowning, the insistence on this line of thought doing nothing to help him feel less confused and anxious. "Harry, what happened? Have I done something to make you think I was wanting out?"

"Nothing, Eggsy. You've just been a little distant lately, and I thought it might have been because you were having second thoughts," Harry admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Now that he said it aloud, it sounded silly and insecure, and he wished he could take it back. 

Oh. Oh well that at least explained the sudden and rather dramatic question. Eggsy was put more at ease knowing that he hadn't done something and been unaware of it, but that was relatively short lived. The distant thing he was perfectly cognizant of; he just hadn't realized Harry was picking up on it that much. He'd thought -- in vain, obviously -- that he had been a bit more subtle than that in their interactions.

"Yeah. No, I'm definitely not having second thoughts," Eggsy said, looking a bit uncomfortable himself now. It was bad enough that Harry could tell something was wrong; he didn't particularly want to go into the alternative explanation. But that much was completely true.

Harry nodded. That much, at least, was clear. It didn't relax him completely -- it couldn't, not with the way something was so obviously wrong -- but it at least eased his worries on one account. "I am certainly glad to hear that," he said with a small smile. After a brief pause he added, "Is there something else going on you'd like to talk to me about?" 

Eggsy didn't answer right away. He ran his hand through his hair, mind working quickly in trying to see how much or what he was going to say. The reality of it was that he knew he was being vain and petty, and Harry would immediately dismiss his worries as being unfounded. But he wasn't stupid, he knew Harry would have to say as much either way. The partners of pregnant people always had to, as the people around them tended to spare their feelings. 'Pregnancy glow' and all that. But that was a load of bullshit. He was bloated and had pink stretch marks and was irritatingly squishy beyond just his stomach. He loved their baby with all his heart, but that didn't mean he had to love his body like this. And sharing that with Harry right now wasn't something he was ready to do.

"It's nothing about you. Nothing you need to worry about." Eggsy smiled lightly, consoling Harry what he hoped would be enough for him to let it go and not feel that tugging worry that must have been there all this time.

The smile Eggsy gave him wasn't exactly a strong one, but he also very obviously didn't want to share what he was going through. Pushing him wouldn't help, might even hurt, so Harry took the loss. "Alright," he conceded. "But if it becomes something I should worry about, you will tell me, yes?" Inaction didn't agree with him; he hated the thought that he might not be doing something that could help, but he truly didn't know what was running through Eggsy's mind, and he had to accept that.

"Yes, I will," Eggsy agreed, and even he didn't know if he was lying or not. After all, Harry was the only one who really  _ could  _ help him in this, help veer him back on track from this course of self-consciousness to something, if it remained unchecked, possibly more severe. But not now. He was dealing with it the way he knew how.

His back ached.

"Maybe we could knock off early enough to grab dinner somewhere sometime soon," Eggsy said soon after, giving Harry a faintly apologetic smile. "Feels like it's been ages since it got to be just us." And he was feeling guilty now, knowing that he had inadvertently made Harry question if he had been having second thoughts about their relationship. He wasn't willing to share this aspect just yet, but he didn't want to completely shut him out either.

A slow smile spread across Harry's face, and he nodded. Eggsy might have been doing this just to reassure him that he wasn't reconsidering their marriage, but he was right. It had been a while since they had last taken a night for themselves. Normally, Eggsy was tired enough after work that they spent their evenings inside, but if he felt up to more that night, Harry wasn't going to object. "I think that can be arranged. I've already finished most of what was on my schedule for today."  

"Yeah? You think you can get away?" Eggsy's face lit up. The idea he had thrown out assuming Harry would give a vague 'yeah, sometime sounds good' maybe being a reality took some of the tiredness out of his muscles. He couldn't think of something he'd like more than an evening with his husband: no work, just something all about them. It may have had something to do with the self-conscious feelings creeping up on him more every day, but while he was content with things as they were now, he would very much like a little extra to make him feel loved.


End file.
